


The Taming of the Shrew

by Aneas



Series: Mer!Verse [2]
Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-11
Updated: 2011-05-11
Packaged: 2017-10-19 07:12:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/198286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aneas/pseuds/Aneas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Kris thought he was honestly prepared for anything after Adam came home with six bags of prunes to prevent constipation, and tried to make him dry swallow a box of antacids: ‘Just in case, Kris, the books say heartburn is <i>painful</i>’. Kris should have remembered the courtship, and never let down his guard.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Taming of the Shrew

**Author's Note:**

> **Pairing:** Adam/Kris.  
>  **Disclaimer:** This portrayal is entirely fictional. Not for profit, just for our entertainment.  
>  **Warnings:** High levels of crack. Mpreg. Part Two of my Mer!verse, so you should probably read [“Too Mer To Woo Peaceably”.](http://kradamadness.dreamwidth.org/19477.html) Otherwise, this fic would make even less sense.  
>  **Betas:** My delicious Cookie, Jerakeen and Akavertigo are awesome ladies. They wrestled with adjectives and beat commas into submission, and more importantly, they made the plot interesting. Without them, this would suck a lot more.  
>  **Notes:** I’m not even going to try to justify myself. I wanted to write something meaningful, but this happened, instead. Why should I try to resist the crack if it makes me happy?

  


 

 

 

“Right now,” Matt asks signaling him with a piece of fried chicken. “How many sea creatures are living under your roof, exactly?

Kris shrugs. He waves at the waiter and points to his plate, (there’s no cheese dip left). Once the important part is taken care of, he makes a quick mental count.

“I think around twenty five?” he finally says. Matt widens his eyes. “But most of them live in tanks, so they’re not running around, really. It’s not like you trip over them all the time, or something.”

“Last week I found one of your hermit crabs trying to steal my shoe,” Matt says.

Kris makes a face. “Yeah, sorry about that. They’re kind of nervous right now, what with molting season and stuff. They all need bigger shells, so it’s a little like scavenger time, all the time.”

Matt looks at him for a moment, before nodding. “They’re cool shoes,” he says, picking up the biggest piece of chicken, “They’d make awesome shells.”

Kris is not so sure. Matt’s shoes are size eleven. That’s just not practical.

 

  


 

“Where were you?” Adam asks from the kitchen door.

Kris grimaces, resting the keys on the foyer table. He turns slowly. Adam has his arms crossed over his chest and his cheeks are flushed. At his feet, Lawrence the head lobster crosses his three pairs of claws. They sure make an imposing Welcoming Committee.

“You know I was out with Matt,” he says.

“You could have called,” Adam says icily.

“I did,” Kris protests.

“Only twice!” Adam says. “I was worried, it’s been hours!”

Kris sighs. “I was out for two hours Adam, and I called you twice.” Adam _has_ to relax, really. This level of stress is not healthy.

Adam takes a step forward. His nose twitches. “Do I smell- did you eat cheese dip?” he asks, outraged.

Shit. Shitshitshit. It’s clear that bubble gum isn’t disguise enough. Kris is starting to realize that trying to hide from Adam’s sense of smell is like trying to run from Hay Fever. Not matter how far you go or how fast you run, it always catches you.

He supposes his face is answer enough, because Adam puts a hand over his heart.

“I can’t talk to you if you’re reeking of dairy!” he says. “Go take a nap, go. Sleep off your calcium hangover and then we’ll talk.”

He turns and walks away. Lawrence shakes his head and regards Kris with a disappointed look.

Kris knows Adam has issues with milk because he thinks humans are stealing the calves’ food, but honestly, this is just plain ridiculous.

 

  


 

“It’s going to be a boy,” Adam says, digging his fingers in Kris’ soles.

Kris groans. ”You can’t know that.”

“Of course I can,” says Adam, dismissing his words. He lowers his head and presses hard under Kris’ toe with his thumb. Kris giggles and tries not to jerk his knee and break Adam’s nose.

“We’re having a boy with brown hair and golden skin just like you,” Adam says. “No freckles, no red hair, no bad skin. He’ll be gorgeous, just like his daddy. I’ll have the most gorgeous family in the gam.”

Kris snorts. Adam beams at him and rests a hand on Kris’ stomach. “My lovely boys,” he says, and he looks so delighted Kris has no heart to chew him out for the corniness.

Besides, Kris is glad Adam is smiling again. He was incredibly sad when their merstetrician told them yesterday that only one of the four fertilized eggs was viable. Kris doesn’t mind a little mushiness if it makes Adam smile like that again.

 

  


 

So far, Kris thinks that being pregnant is not so bad. Okay, the visit to Doctor Rounds was kind of traumatic, and being tired all the time is a real nuisance, but not greater than Adam’s overprotective vein. Anyways, Kris is a laid back guy. He can deal with it.

 _(It helps that he can’t actually wrap his mind around the fact that he’s pregnant. No matter how many sonograms or test results they show him, no matter how many nursery things Adam brings home; Kris still sort of believes everything is a monumental joke._

 _“Denial phase, anyone?” Megan asks. Kris gives her the finger.)_

Then the hiccups start. They’re extremely inconvenient, but Kris tries to bear the hiccupping fits with dignity.

It’s not until the morning sickness that Kris starts to actually lose his patience.

 

  


 

“Adam thinks you’re angry with him.” Brad says, leaning against the doorjamb.

Kris stares up at him in silence. He doesn’t even blink.

“He says you’re not taking the pregnancy thing very well,” Brad says. When Kris doesn’t respond, he adds, “and he’s worried all your sulking is going to give wrinkles to the baby.”

Kris can feel his left eyebrow twitch.

“Is it normal to be so pale at this point in the pregnancy?” Brad asks. When Kris inhales sharply, he widens his eyes. “Baby, you totally have to try to relax. It’s not good for you to be this tense, you could break your jaw.”

Kris’ upper lip curls upwards slowly and the growl he lets out resounds in the room. It’s feral, primitive. Kris is very proud of it.

Brad raises his hands and makes sure to maintain eye contact with Kris while he backs away slowly. Kris rests his forehead against the cool white porcelain of the sink with a sigh and tries to keep from throwing up for the hundredth time.

 

  


 

Adam comes running into the basement studio.

“Kris! I just found the most perfect baby name! What about…” There’s a theatrical pause. “Abalone?”

“What about…” says Kris, with the same dramatic pause, “over my cold, dead body?”

There’s a long, uncomfortable silence where nobody even breathes.

“Well, I-” Adam points to the door, “I’ll just go upstairs and keep on thinking then.”

“Yeah, you do that. I’ll stay here and try not to kill you with the power of my mind,” Kris says conversationally.

He can hear Adam’s mumbling while he goes up the stairs. “I can’t choose a name related to Mer stuff, I can’t use names related to Dry Things either…and what’s wrong with Muffin, anyway? It’s a great name. It’s warm and full of nice connotations.”

“I already told you Muffin is a stupid name and a recipe for bullying!” Kris shouts. Upstairs, Adam slams the door.

Kris groans.

 

  


 

“I still think that this is just a plot so you can spy on me.” Kris says, batting Adam hands from his lapel.

Adam snorts. “Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I want to spy on you? It’s not like you have something to hide, do you?” He raises an eyebrow and Kris lowers his hands in defeat. Adam grins and gets closer.

After a few seconds, Kris bites his lip. “I don’t think this is going to work,” he says, doubtfully.

“Of course it will!” Adam answers full of confidence, while he fusses with Kris’ jacket. “No one will even notice. Believe me, I’ve worn worse things.”

That’s undoubtedly true, but Kris doesn’t find it reason enough to try this look. He breathes deeply and shakes his head. “But I’m not you, Adam. I can’t meet Simon Fuller wearing a lobster on my denim jacket.”

Adam widens his eyes. “But it’s Georgia! She’s so small! She can totally pretend to be a brooch, look!” He turns Kris around so he can see his reflection on the big mirror of the entrance. “She doesn’t even clash with your plaid shirt.”

Kris frowns. Georgia looks back at him from her precarious perch on Kris’ pocket. She moves her antlers nervously.

“I said no, Adam,” he says finally, dislodging her with care. As soon as she’s free, Georgia hides behind the umbrella stand. “I can’t pull off this look.”

Adam looks at him, uncertain. “I can talk with Dwayne,” he says, considering. “Though wearing a sea urchin won’t be half as striking.” His tone is regretful. Then he smiles. “But hey! Dwayne has the worst temper ever. If somebody so much as look at you weird, he will turn them into pin cushions!”

He runs towards the tank in the sitting room. Kris starts to look for his car keys- if he’s lucky, he’ll be in the road before Adam finds Dwayne.

“Don’t try to escape!” Adam shouts from the other room. “I have your keys! You’ll be wearing a sea urchin to your meeting and you’ll like it, Kristopher!”

Kris looks at Georgia. “Please,” he says. “Please, let me die.”

She comes closer and pats his shoe comfortingly. There, there.

 

  


 

Kris switches off his cell. It’s the seventh time Adam has called him in the last hour. Turning it off is his last resort. Adam’s really, really bad at lying, and the situation turned from comical to embarrassing very quickly when he ran out of excuses for talking to Kris on his fifth call.

He’s just having lunch with Cassidy, for crying out loud. Kris is not doing something dangerous, like fighting drug trafficking cartels in Colombia with just a toothpick and some adhesive tape. There’s no reason for Adam to be so anxious all the damn time.

Kris regrets the day Adam got his Blackberry. It gives him unlimited hovering powers.

“I’ve been thinking that maybe I could tag along with you to some Mer pregnancy classes or something if you want,” Cassidy says cautiously.

“Sure,” Kris agrees amiably. “Give me your sandwich.”

Cass rests a hand over his heart and smiles earnestly. “I’m glad you approve, Kris. We’ve been so worried!” He picks up the sandwich and waves it around carelessly. “You’ll see, they’re experts, they’ll explain the whole thing to you and then you won’t be so moody all the time or so scared, and you’ll know what to expect and everything will be awesome! Aren’t you excited?”

“I’m honestly thrilled,” Kris says in a monotone, his eyes following Cassidy’s hand like a hawk. The movement of the sandwich in the air is mesmerizing.

Cassidy scowls.

“You don’t care at all,” he accuses, and puts down the sandwich on the plate.

“Not really, no.” Kris says, and raises his eyes to Cass’ face. “Now hand me that bacon and cheese sandwich and no one will be get hurt.”

“Kris!”

“Your sandwich or dismemberment. Choose wisely, buddy.”

This bacon sandwich has the distinctive taste of success.

 

  


 

If somebody asks, the only reason Kris doesn’t go on a killing spree when Adam appears in the restaurant half an hour later is because of the crème brûlée. It’s really hard to be full of righteous rage when there’s barely any space left in his full-of-delicious-crème-brûlée body.

Kris even nuzzles Adam’s neck when they’re in the taxi before falling asleep. He’s magnanimous like that.

 _(It has nothing to be with the fact that since he got pregnant, Kris’ sense of smell is hypersensitive and Adam smells amazing, like cotton candy and butter-cream. And lemon. And a little bit of ozone._

 _No, it’s not related at all.)_

 

  


 

“Kris, are you awake?” Adam asks from the door. Kris ignores him, closing his eyes. He’s still sulking because of last night—and he has every right to! Adam read somewhere about ectopic pregnancies and now he won’t let Kris go outside the house without him. It’s ridiculous! The whole thing is surreal! Kris doesn’t even have a uterus: of course it’s an ectopic pregnancy. Kris doesn’t need a bodyguard, for god’s sake; what he needs is less worrying and hovering and more sandwiches! It’s his right as a pregnant wom-man--as a pregnant _being_.

“May I come in?” Adam asks. When Kris still doesn’t answer, he comes in anyway, because he’s an asshole. An asshole without common sense, who doesn’t respect personal boundaries and is also a liar, a douchebag who never said that Mermen can get pregnant too and to add insult to injury he’s always happy and smells like…Moussaka?

Kris' nose twitches, _it is Moussaka!_ , so he opens his eyes and sits up on the sofa. Adam sets the tray on the coffee table; Kris’ pride demands he refuse the food, but it’s been hours since lunch. There’s lemonade on the tray, and a little bit of an olives and pickles tapenade over a crispy ciabatta, and also tiramisu…sometimes Kris hates how well Adam knows him.

“I made you dinner,” Adam says. When Kris raises an eyebrow - _Bitch, please_ \- he amends. “Well, I bought it on the way home, but I totally heated it and prepared the tray for you!”

Adam is ridiculously good-looking, what with the eyes and the freckles, and the earnest expression. And the mouth, don’t forget about the mouth, please. When Adam is so close, looking at him with contrite eyes and pursed lips, Kris has trouble remembering why he’s so angry.

“I know you’re annoyed with me and believe me when I say that I totally understand your reasons,” Adam says. “I’m sorry I’m so edgy, Kris, but I can’t help it.”

“I’m a little old to be grounded. Seriously, confinement went out of fashion two centuries ago.” And, wow, isn’t that the weirdest sentence Kris ever thought he’d say.

Adam shakes his head. He does earnest like a pro. “You’re angry, and I know it’s not only about having to stay at home. I understand it, honestly. I just hope you’ll eventually forgive me, because I really thought you knew about birth control, and I-“

“Oh, fuck you!” Kris yells. “I was left behind when I was a baby, Adam, how was I supposed to know about the existence of Mer contraceptives when I never even knew I wasn’t human? Nobody told me I could get pregnant!” Adam winces. If he thinks that’s all Kris has to say on the subject, he’s sadly mistaken. “And anyway, why is it _my_ responsibility to remember birth control? Weren’t you involved in the conception, too, you moron? You should have said something! You can’t just wash your hands just because I’m the one carrying the eggs! That’s so typically-” He’s so completely incensed; he can’t find the right words to express how furious he is. “Do you know what you are? You’re a sexist, Adam, a-a chauvinist pig!”

Adam blinks twice. “Oh, like those little cute pigs all black and smooth, that have big bellies? They’re so cute!” He smiles, and then he scowls. “Wait, are you calling me fat?”

Kris presses the heels of his hands again his eyes.

“God, my life is so surreal,” he mumbles. He looks at Adam, who has his arms crossed over his chest, pouting. “Those are Vietnamese pigs, not chauvinist pigs. I’m not calling you fat, Adam. You’re not fat.”

Adam looks at him from the corner of his eye. After a few tense minutes when he doesn’t say a thing, he finally relaxes his stance and pleads: “You have to forgive me, Kris. I thought since we spent so long apart you wanted to have babies right away. I’m sorry it never occurred me to talk about contraceptive measures.”

Oh, God. Adam’s face is all intense and hopeful, and Kris feels a little pang of guilt.

He look down at the slight bump of his tummy and overcomes the guilt instantly.

“Excuse me if I’m not being all that reasonable. I’m pregnant, Adam. I’m two months into a freaky sci-fi pregnancy and I don’t even want to know what the baby is going to look like. A squid? Or even worse, will our baby look like those giant clams you were talking about last Sunday? What are they called? Geoducks?” Adam smirks suddenly. Then tries to hide it, and Kris blushes. “Oh, for crying out loud! This wasn’t a pun, I didn’t-Don’t you dare to find this funny, you dickfac-you asshole!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Adam tries to placate him, but he still has remnants of the cocky smile in the corner of his mouth and for a brief moment Kris thinks about throwing the tray at his head. But the food smells amazing so in the end he just kicks Adam’s thigh with his socked feet. As hard as he can.

“I’m going to drown my sorrows in grilled aubergines and chopped tomatoes, and in order to get thoroughly wasted on veggie food, I need peace and calm. I don’t want to see your face until it’s time for a second helping of tiramisu.”

Adam sighs and gets up.

 

  


 

“Nobody told me about the mood swings,” Kris says, sniffling. “Nobody.”

Adam switches the TV off and hugs him. “Don’t be ashamed. SpongeBob Squarepants is a very emotional program for me, too.”

Kris blows his nose. This pregnancy thing is starting to stress Kris a little.

 

  


 

There’s a new fishbowl on Kris’ desk the night after the Mustard Incident. It’s a big and shiny fishbowl, and it contains a gorgeous Siamese fighting fish that looks really comfortable in his domain.

Kris doesn’t need more apology fish, thank you very much. What he really needs is for Adam to stop overreacting. Mustard is only dangerous when used in a plaster, not on a slice of bread. At least this time Adam admits that shrieking and throwing the jars over the neighbor’s fence might have been a little excessive. That’s something. It’s sad that that’s what Kris considers a win, nowadays.

(Kris really wishes the neighbor had been half as accommodating. It turns out that Hot Mustard stains Teak wood really badly. The swimming pool furniture was only a few weeks old. He still grimaces remembering the epic shouting.)

A few days later, Adam buys a female fish because he says it’s mating time for Beta. That’s what he calls the first fish, Beta. Kris calls him ALS, short for Aggressive Little Shit. He gained his name after Kris discovered him trying to fight his own reflection in the fishbowl glass. ALS looks at the female, flares his gills and then proceeds to twist his body in the most bizarre mating dance Kris has ever seen. And that’s saying something: Kris was with Matt the night they met Megan in the club. He thought he’d seen it all.

ALS is obviously bipolar, because the damn fish is as likely to give his partner the stink eye as he is to prance in front of her shaking his fins with a cocky attitude. Then he apparently decides it’s mating time, and once they’re done, Kris has to forcefully separate them because ALS chases and tries to kill the female after the violent mating, like her frayed fins and the lost scales are not punishment enough. Seriously, the bloody fish is a fucking menace.

Adam looks adorably confused when Kris clumsily tries to point out their parallels with ALS’ mating story.

“No, I don’t think ‘life’s trying to send you a message’ Kris,” Adam says, baffled. “And what do you mean by ‘smothering people with care’?”

“Nothing,” Kris sighs in defeat. “Of course there’s no similarity between us. I’m overreacting.”

Adam’s bright smile warms the whole room. “You obviously are. Now come here and let me wrap you in this blanket. We don’t want you to catch a cold, do we?”

 

  


 

It’s late. Kris keeps tossing and turning in bed. The sheets are cold, the mattress is lumpy, and the pillow is itchy. Everything is so still! He can’t sleep.

He looks at the clock and sighs. It’s time for his nightly visit to the toilet. On his way back to his bedroom, Kris can see the light from the sitting room, so he goes downstairs. Adam is sleeping on the sofa, sleek black hair everywhere, all warm and cuddly like a sea lion. Kris doesn’t even try to resist.

“Mmm?” Adam asks groggily when Kris climbs over him.

“Why are you here?” Kris asks. “The bed was cold, I missed you.”

He’s pouting, but he doesn’t care. Adam uses the arm he instinctively put over Kris to turn them on the sofa until they’re resting comfortably: Kris on the inside, his back against the backrest and his front huddled against Adam’s chest. Kris sighs happily and wiggles until his feet are between Adam’s, his nose nestled against Adam’s collarbone. It’s their usual cuddling position and it feels like home to him.

Adam’s voice is a hoarse whisper. “There was a documentary about Christmas Tree Worms on TV. They’re gorgeous. I love them; they’re so festive. So many colors.”

Adam smells wonderful: hints of cologne and hair product, the stuff he uses to remove his make-up, and underneath it all, musk and warm skin and a little bit of sweat. It’s intoxicating. Kris buries his nose in the hollow between Adam’s clavicles. He wants to sink there and never leave. It’ll make the perfect burrow to hide from the world.

“Do you miss the Depths?” he asks.

Adam doesn’t answer; he's probably already asleep. Kris sighs and snuggles in deeper. But after a moment Adam reaches out with his arm to grab the afghan over the sofa and cover Kris’s feet with it. Kris’s feet are always cold, and the pregnancy is making the problem even worse.

“I’ll always miss the Depths,” Adam says. “There’s nothing like being underwater, Kris: the peace, the feeling of being in the right place. The caress of the water on your skin, the strength of your tail propelling your body faster and faster…believe me, it’s total freedom, happiness,” He lowers his voice even more. It’s an effort but Kris manages to hear Adam’s next words. “It’s belonging and music and the deepest joy anyone can feel all mixed in one.”

Kris’ stomach turns unpleasantly and he breathes deeply, trying to relax. Adam is not trying to imply anything. He’s not saying he’s unhappy on the Surface. Kris has to stop feeling threatened every time Adam talks about The Depths. ‘He loves me,’ he thinks. ‘He loves me, he loves me, he loves me. He came to the Surface for me. _He loves me._ ’

Adam tightens his embrace. “But you’re my mate and my place is here with you, especially now that you’re expecting. You don’t have to worry. I’ll be here.”

Kris doesn’t tell him that he doesn’t find his words so reassuring. He wants to tell Adam that sometimes he’s scared of all the longing in Adam’s words. That Kris needs to hear that Adam loves him enough to stay even if Kris wasn’t pregnant.

He stays there, quiet in Adam’s arms for a long time.

“I love you. You know that, right?” Kris finally says, but this time Adam is really asleep and he doesn’t answer.

 

  


 

“Did you know that Adam’s making me eat Iceberg Lettuce every night because he wants a baby with curly hair?” Kris asks.

Brad laughs so hard that he knocks the fedoras off the display. The salesgirl gives them the stink eye, so Kris takes him by the arm and leaves the shop with an apologetic glance back. Brad is still laughing when Kris stops in front of the smoothie stand.

“Your boy is precious,” Brad says, and then orders the vilest smoothie ever. Something so insane and ridiculous that even the kid behind the counter looks green as he hands it over.

“My boy is a menace,” Kris corrects, taking a sip of his cup: blueberry and banana. He wonders what’s wrong with classics. And what the fuck is Yerba Mate? The smell of Brad’s mixture is making him want to sneeze.

Brad shakes his head. “He’s sweet, funny, gorgeous and totally devoted to you. I don’t know what your problem is, honestly.”

Kris tilts his head. “Oh, I don’t know, let me think. Maybe that he impregnated me without bothering to ask me first?”

Brad makes a dismissive gesture with his hand. “You’re going to have his baby. You’re, like, the wet dream of a lot of gay couples,” he says.

Kris snorts. “Yeah, being pregnant is great.”

Brad shrugs. “You basically have the guy waiting on you hand and foot, Kris. He just wants you safe and healthy, and he’s doing everything he can to pamper you. I’d kill for that kind of devotion,” he says wistfully.

Kris is not an ungrateful shit. He’s not. He knows Adam is the sweetest guy he’s ever come across. Adam’s going out of his way to make Kris’ pregnancy easier for him; Kris knows that. But the truth is that having a kid with a guy he barely knows has never been one of Kris’ life goals. Being pregnant? That wasn’t even a possibility before.

“I think I’d enjoy being pregnant,” Brad muses, and Kris groans. For the love of…

“Believe me, you wouldn’t,” Kris says curtly. “You really, really wouldn’t.”

Brad opens his mouth, but Kris interrupts him. “And before you say something incredibly stupid like ‘I’m sure being pregnant is not that hard’, let me tell you a couple of things.”

He rests his smoothie on the table. “Being pregnant sucks,” he says. Brad looks at him apprehensively. “It sucks big time. Last week I was so nauseous in the mornings that I had to postpone every single meeting until after eleven. This week I didn’t have to, because Adam had already _canceled_ everything on my schedule, because he thinks I’m going to faint or something if I try to pick up my guitar.” He breathes deeply and keeps on talking. He’s warming to the subject. “I’m hungry all day, there’s the weirdest pressure in my lower abdomen that makes me run to the toilet every five minutes. My back is sore and I suspect I’m growing hair in unexpected places. But do you know what tops it all?”

Brad shakes his head, and Kris says, “My sense of smell is so accurate I can tell when the last time you washed your t-shirt was, man,” he says turning to the guy that’s been blatantly eavesdropping from the next table. “And let me tell you its way past time for some quality soap action.”

The guy goes away, flushed. Brad calmly takes another sip. “And don’t forget the mood swings, please,” he says.

‘Or the way my nipples are tender all the time,’ Kris wants to say, but there’s sharing and then there’s _sharing_ , and this is not the right place, definitely. Kris knows he’s sulking; he can’t help it. Being pregnant is not the joyous experience Brad seems to believe.

“Are you sick of my pregnancy yet? Because we haven’t even gotten to STRECH MARKS!” he warns. Brad raises his hands in dismayed defeat.

Kris knows it’s petty to feel happy when faced with Brad’s undisguised horror, but whatever. If anyone deserves to get away with a little pettiness, it’s surely the guy who was knocked up by a merman.

 

  


 

Their label invites them to a party. Kris tries to refuse the invitation. He really, really tries. He says he’s tired, busy, sick, but his PA smiles and doesn’t believe his excuses for a moment. Kris even gets creative and makes Megan call and pretend to be his cousin so a sudden family emergency is more credible. His PA snorts and raises an eyebrow; he’s clearly insulted Kris thinks he’s so gullible. In retaliation he tells Adam that it’s going to be a single-release party.

That’s a low blow. Everybody knows Adam _LOVES_ release parties. It doesn’t even matter that they don’t know the band, or that their only connection is that they share the same label. Adam thinks that releasing music is a miracle and should be celebrated as such. And if it’s possible? Wearing sequins.

Kris fires his PA again. The guy just pats his head and gives him a lollipop.

He hates everything about this kind of gathering. They’re full of ‘celebrities’ because they gather more media attention than the actual musicians, and he has neither the time nor the inclination to just mingle around and be seen. Kris hates the inane conversations, and the vapid people with shiny plastic hair and shark eyes. He hates having to smile all the time and look happy. That’s why he’s half hiding in the balcony behind a big palm tree, with a virgin raspberry daiquiri and a sullen expression. It has nothing to do with the fact that his favorite jeans don’t fit him anymore and he’s wearing cargo pants. _Nothing._

Adam returns from the buffet grinning happily with a plate full of greenish canapés and a slender guy in his wake.

“Here you are!” he says, like Kris hasn’t been hiding in the same spot beside the palm tree for an hour. He hands Kris the plate and kisses his forehead. “Look who I met!”

Kris takes a moment to peruse the assortment of bite-sized veggie appetizers – they look horrible and smell even worse – before looking up.

“What the-” he tries to say, bracing himself against the glass railing of the balcony. Gerard Way, _Gerard Way of My Chemical Romance!_ , beams at him and hastily tries to take both Kris’ hands in his. The plate almost falls to the floor.

“Greetings from the Atlantic Brink, Brother Kris Allen. I’m Gerard, son of Donna, and I belong to the Way Gam. May the light of the Mainland be with you!” The guy is even prettier closer, despite the crazy red hair and the shabby clothes.

“Err…Hello to you, too?” Kris says, slowly. Gerard smiles widely, all honest eyes and crooked mouth.

“I’m so excited we’ve finally met. Your story has been the talk of our community! I have so many things to ask you!” He looks honestly thrilled and Kris manages to smile a little. Suddenly, Gerard leans towards him and Kris takes half a step back, the railing of the balcony digging a hole in his lower back. Gerard asks, “Do you think your stance on the subject of International Waters is affected by your upbringing as a Dry One?”

Kris blinks. Slowly. He turns towards Adam.

“Gerard’s been pregnant twice!” Adam says, practically bouncing on his feet.

“Oh, yes!” Gerard nods, stepping back to a respectable distance. Kris welcomes the return of his personal space. The guy is…intense. “Bandit is almost two and the twins are barely six months old. Congratulations by the way, Adam says you guys are expecting.”

Kris looks at his mate in disbelief, but Adam doesn’t notice because he’s signaling Gerard with his eyebrows with a lot of intensity.

“And of course,” continues Gerard smoothly, “if you ever want to talk about the pregnancy or need advice, just call me, okay?”

He produces a sharpie from his pocket and writes a cell number on Kris’ forearm. His fingers feel cold against Kris’ skin.

“I have to go,” Gerard says apologetically. “The guys hate this kind of party and when Frank gets bored shit gets broken, so…” He flails a little and then disappears with a warped smile and a conspiratorial wink to Adam.

Well, that was…weird. And very blatantly arranged. Kris hopes Gerard doesn’t think he’s being stealthy, because he really, really sucks at sneakiness. Big time.

“Do you have to tell _everyone_ that I’m pregnant?” Kris finally asks.

Adam picks up something that vaguely resembles a croquette from Kris’ plate. He sniffs it, and after a moment of doubt, pops it in his mouth. “Of course not, I only tell mermen.”

That’s reassuring. Not.

Cassidy chooses this moment to come near. The plate he carries has food that actually looks edible, so Kris uses the puppy eyes until Cass sighs and hands it to him. Adam scowls when his plate is tossed to the side unceremoniously.

There’s some bruschetta, and little spoons full of tabbouleh, fragrant and delicious. He moans when he discovers the little sausages. Kris loves Cassidy. He’s a prince among men.

“What were you talking about?” Cass asks while Kris stuffs himself with gusto.

“Male Mer pregnancy,” Adam says.

Cass sips his wine. “Is there any other kind?” he jokes. Adam smirks.

Kris frowns. “Oh. So mermaids can’t get-?” He stops when Adam shakes his head. “What?”

“Mermaids is a sexist term,” Adam explains. “The political correct term is Merwomen.”

Cassidy’s snort and rolled eyes make his stance on political correctness painfully clear.

Kris begins again. “So a Merwomen can’t get pregnant easily?”

“She can if her mate is strong and virile enough to counterpart her. Just look at what happened to Nicole,” says Cass and signals towards the dance floor.

“Oh, totally,” Adam agrees. Kris looks over and freezes. Please, please, they’re not surely talking about-

“Yeah, her first mate was…let’s say that he wasn’t equal to her.” Adam says.

Cass snickers. “But after barely five seconds with the new one, she’s pregnant.”

“You gotta looove Keith Urban,” Adam says, solemn. Cass nods.

Oh, for crying out loud. “Is everybody in fucking Hollywood a mermaid?” Kris shouts.

“Of course not, don’t be ridiculous,” Cass says.

“Only the redheads,” says Adam, helpfully. “Oh, and some strawberry blonds, too.” He frowns. “And a lot of brunets, actually, but they mostly come from the East Coast.”

“Brunet mermen, we’re hardcore.” Cass explains with a mocking tone. “We refuse to cave in to stereotypes.”

“You didn’t think Rihanna was human, did you?” Adam asks Kris in disbelief.

Oh, God.

Kris remembers a time when his life was simple and people were just _people_.

Kris remembers that time fondly.

 

  


 

Megan manages to convince Adam that going to the hairdresser’s is not, by any means, a dangerous activity. Needless to say, she has to promise Adam that she’ll be extremely vigilant and be ready stop the hairdresser if she thinks the scissors are too sharp or too close to Kris’ skin, but they’re finally free to go.

Kris sighs and rests his wet head against the towel. The chairs are so comfortable, the hair mask smells amazing, and Kris is beginning to feel a little drowsy.

“I have nightmares almost every night,” he confesses to Megan, who’s wearing a scrubbing dark green mask on her face that makes her almost unrecognizable.

“It’s normal,” she says in a comforting tone. “When I was expecting Ryder, I used to wake up screaming; the dreams were so fucking vivid. I was scared I was going to be a terrible mother, afraid of making mistakes and traumatize the kid.” She chuckles. “You shouldn’t worry. I’m sure you’ll do all right.”

“Well, my nightmares are mostly of the ‘baby looks like a lamprey and will devour me from the inside’ variety, but thanks anyway,” Kris says.

She looks at Kris. Her mouth is half open, and she doesn’t even blink. Against the dark mud, her teeth and eyes look pale and enormous.

“Dude. We’re definitely cutting you off Discovery Channel,” she finally says, shivering a little. “And no more Alien for you, neither.”

Kris sighs. “Yeah, I think that might be a good idea.”

 

  


 

Kris knew that Adam wouldn’t let the subject rest. He knew Adam would keep on trying to make him see a Mer-doctor every week, or attempt to forcefully make him listen to one of the dozen audio seashells resting on every possible flat surface of their house, with attractive titles like ‘So You’re Expecting a Merkid!’, ‘Merbirthing From Within’, or Kris’ favorite source of nightmares: ‘The Modern Merman’s Guide to Breastfeeding’.

He honestly thought he was prepared for anything after Adam came home with six bags of prunes to prevent constipation and tried to make him dry swallow a box of antacids: (“Just in case, Kris, the books say heartburn is _painful_ ”). Kris should have remembered the courtship, and never let down his guard.

But he doubts anything would have prepared him for waking up one Saturday morning to come down the stairs and find that his partner has staged an intervention. The sitting room has a martial air to it. Cassidy and Adam are sitting rigidly in the armchairs and the lobsters, in perfect formation, draw a severe line near the kitchen door. Even the eels seem to be waiting for him, slowly twisting in the aquarium, wearing frowns instead of their usual mocking faces.

This is going to be hard. Cassidy is even wearing his ‘I’m incredibly sexy and you want me to fuck you senseless against a wall but I won’t because this is a serious conversation’ glasses. Well, at least that’s what Brad calls them. Kris is not sure any eyewear needs that kind of name. Or pressure.

Kris braces himself.

“Look, Kris,” Adam starts when Kris sits on the lone wing chair. “What we wanted to--”

“Baby,” Cass interrupts, “stop the stubbornness and just go to the fucking merstetrician, okay? Your poor mate is all kinds of crazy with worry and we both know the guy didn’t have too much sanity to begin with.”

Kris blinks. Adam scowls. Cass raises an eyebrow challengingly, daring them to contradict him.

After a minute, Kris breathes deeply, tiredly. “Nice, Cass, very nice. Great way to break the ice.”

Cassidy smirks. “I have a gift for diplomacy.”

“Yeah, you’re gifted all right,” Adam snorts. He turns towards Kris again. “You totally deserve your denial phase, Kris.” Kris irritably wonders how the hell Adam manages to look so earnest all the fucking time. It must be exhausting to manage that level of candor constantly. “Believe me, nobody is trying to refuse you that right, but you’re well into your third month of pregnancy and it’s vital for you to go to the doctor.”

“I already went to the doctor twice, the last visit was two weeks ago. And don’t you remember that delightful time when we were informed that only one of the four fertilized eggs was viable?” Kris crosses his arms over his chest. What a surreal experience _that_ was. He still has shudders every time he remembers it.

“Lots of stuff can happen in a fortnight!” Adam says. “And you were barely showing the last time Doctor Rounds saw you.”

“Stop the drama, Adam,” Kris says with a sigh. “You worry too much.”

“One of us should be worried and since it’s clearly not going to be you…” Adam says. Kris opens his mouth to reply, but Cass beats him to it.

“Hey, it’s completely normal to be a little worried, Adam doesn’t have to defend himself. But, Kris, you ought to know what’s happening to your body, what you should be doing and avoiding during your pregnancy. It’s a wonderful experience and you should be enjoying it.”

Kris rolls his eyes. “I wouldn’t know. So far I’ve been too busy trying to stop Adam’s hovering to properly enjoy being pregnant.” He makes short work of trying to contain the sarcasm.

Cass grimaces. “I can see that Adam’s protectiveness is a source of-”

“His stalking, you mean,” Kris says.

“I’m not a stalker!” Adam protests. “I’m protecting you!”

“I don’t need you to protect me from life, Adam,” Kris says with extreme seriousness. “I can take care of myself. I’m not a child, I’m not stupid, I don’t engage in dangerous situations just for the hell of it!”

“You could’ve fooled me,” Adam spits. “Last Sunday I caught you reaching out from the top of the library stairs.”

Oh, please. Kris has been climbing trees since he was a pipsqueak back in Arkansas. It used to drive his foster parents crazy, but he never fell from a tree. Not even once. He snorts. “I wasn’t parasailing, Adam, I was looking for a book.”

“You could have fallen!” Adam shouts back. He looks annoyed. Kris bites back a retort. He’s never seen Adam angry before. Adam sighs, visibly calming himself down, and speaks softly this time. “You could’ve fallen, Kris.”

One of the lobsters comes closer and pets Adam’s foot with its antennae. The rest of the lobsters look at Kris with reproach in their black little eyes. The bigger one even gestures menacingly at him with its front legs, all mafia like. Kris is totally canceling their cable connection. No more Sopranos, it gives them _ideas_.

He looks back at Adam. “I’ll try to be careful, okay? But you have to try to relax, too, because you’re suffocating me. Your over-protectiveness makes me want to run for the hills.”

Cass claps. Kris jerks. For a moment he’d forgotten they weren’t alone. “It looks like we’ve made progress,” he says delighted. Then he stops. “Wow, I’m fucking good at this counseling shit.” He looks genuinely surprised.

Kris snorts, but Cass ignores him with a familiarity that speaks volumes about how long they’ve been friends. “Okay then. Kris is willing to be more careful, Adam. I think you should compromise, too. Are you willing to let him breathe and not smother him?”

“But I have to look after him, because every time he goes out without me, he eats things that are bad for the babies,” Adam protests.

Kris huffs. “You’re lying. You just don’t want me out of your sight. Don’t try to hide your issues and make it look like my friends are bad people. They don't give me alcohol and raw liver or stuff like that.”

“You don’t eat healthy when you go out, Kris, and you know it,” Adam says prissily. “Left to your own devices, you would survive on fast food alone.”

‘Oh, it’s on, bitch’ Kris thinks. He says, “You know what? Fuck you! Pizza’s totally a valid food group!”

“Since when?” asks Adam with a scowl.

“Since I said so!” Kris crosses his arms over his chest. Isn’t Adam supposed to support Kris and indulge his cravings?

Kris’ tone seems to irritate Adam even further. He looks to Cass pleadingly. “They eat a lot of weird things! Brad even eats insects!” Adam accuses.

 _What?_ No, seriously, _what?_

“That’s not true!” Kris says. Okay, Brad might be a little eccentric, but he most certainly doesn’t eat bugs. Kris has to protest, Brad is the pickiest eater alive: he won’t even try peas because they’re green and round, and he thinks they look _suspicious_.

Cass’ eyes are almost bulging out of his head. “When did you see him eat an insect?”

Adam huffs. “Well, I never _actually saw_ him eating them, but do you remember three weeks ago, at your catwalk?” Cass nods and Adam points a finger to him. “Right after you hugged us and left, Brad said that he had butterflies in his stomach. And he said they were fluttering, so they were still alive! Ha!” he says triumphantly. Kris has to bite his tongue to hide his amusement and not offend Adam.

Cass is not so gentle. “Dude! He didn’t eat the fucking butterflies!”

“Oh, my God!” Adam shrieks. “Did they just appear out of nowhere? In his stomach? Just like that?” He’s honestly scared, like hordes of ninja butterflies would suddenly sprout from his ears, and he shoots a frantic look to Kris for reassurance. Kris puts a comforting hand on his knee.

“It’s just a figure of speech, Adam. There were no actual butterflies involved. He just had a tickling sensation in his stomach due to nerves.” _‘And his giant crush on Cass,’_ Kris wants to add, but this is not the moment to talk about that.

He can see it’s about time for another lesson on the subtle art of metaphors. This would be the fifth so far. This month.

 

  


 

“Okay,” Cass says, after presenting Kris a Styrofoam cup and sitting in front of them. “This is awkward. I’m not used to doing, like, marriage counseling and shit. To be honest, my area of expertise is Post-Breakup Retail Therapy.”

“We don’t need marriage counseling,” Kris spits out. “We’re not married.”

There’s a moment of defeating silence.

“Is that the problem, baby?” Adam asks. “I can totally propose. You know I love you and I want to marry you. I just thought you would prefer to wait until you’re pretty again for the wedding.”

Cass closes his eyes with a grimace. The lobsters scurry for cover under the sofa. Kris just raises an eyebrow.

“Not that you’re not pretty right now,” Adam backpedals, words tinged with desperation. “In fact, you’re glowing! And your hair is so full and shiny. Gorgeous! I just thought that maybe it would be better to wait until after the birth, you know, when you can be slim and-”

Kris exhales loudly. He doesn’t look at Adam as he rises from the sofa.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he says to his guest, politeness oozing from his tone. “I’m going to take a shower. I’ll be back shortly.”

Kris takes his coffee with him, obviously. Like hell he’s going to leave his only source of comfort behind when he needs it the most. He can hear Cassidy’s voice when he reaches the bedroom’s door. There’s amazement and a little bit of admiration in it when he says to Adam: “Dude, seriously, you’re no longer allowed to talk about your relationship without adult supervision.”

 

  


 

They go out for brunch. Adam spends fifteen minutes discussing with the waitress what Kris can and can’t eat; his monologue renders her speechless. Kris is sure the poor girl thinks Kris has the weirdest food allergies ever. She seems to feel bad for him, because she gives him a lollipop on their way out.

Kris is getting a lot of lollipops, lately.

When Adam goes to retrieve the car, Kris seizes the chance to talk with Cassidy freely.

“Cass, he’s driving me crazy.”

Cass smiles. “I think it’s sweet.”

 _Sweet?_ “He doesn’t let me tie my own shoelaces. He tried to put Velcro on my Chucks last week!” Kris is not obsessed with shoe wear, honestly, but he thinks some things are sacred, and a man’s sneakers are definitively one of them.

Cass smiles fondly. “It’s just the curse of the Not Bearing Mate: the protectiveness.”

“I wish it was only that. You just saw how fanatical he is with my eating habits. I swear to God he’s trying to stuff me like a turkey with all the food he cooks,” Kris complains. If he’s in whining mode, he’s going to go all the way into Whining Territory and come out the other side with a diploma.

Cass clucks his tongue with impatience. “He has to take care of you; it’s a biological imperative or some shit. And cooking is the most immediate way for him to show his capability as provider.”

Oh. Wow. “So all the hovering Adam is doing is because of the mate thing.”

Cassidy puts his sunglasses on. “Totally.”

“It’ll pass then,” Kris asks, nonchalant. Cass nods reassuringly and Kris feels a familiar pressure on his chest. He tries not to show his distress: from anger to worry in two seconds flat. Great. The mood swings are as bad as the morning sickness. They both leave him all queasy and dizzy afterward.

He’s not as good at hiding his worry as he thinks he is, because Cass looks anxious.

“Honestly, Kris,” Cass says. “You have to talk to somebody. It doesn’t have to be me. If you’re not comfortable with--”

“No, Cass, it’s not that,” Kris tries to say, but his friend’s not listening.

“--knowing about your private stuff, I understand; but please, find somebody to talk to. Adam would be perfect; he’s the best choice, actually. Talk to him.” He puts a hand on Kris’ shoulder. “Promise me you’ll try to talk to him. You have a lot of questions and I can assure you he has a lot of things to tell you, too. You promise?”

Kris bites his lip and lowers his head. Cass waits until Kris nods.

There’s a sudden screech of tires on asphalt. Adam pulls in and lowers the passenger window. “Are you upsetting my mate, Haley?”

The words try to be playful, but there’s something weird in his voice, like Adam’s noticed the undercurrent of tension between Cass and Kris.

“I’m not,” Cass reassures him, taking his hand from Kris’ shoulder and opening the car door for him. When Kris is inside, Cass leans through the opening to say his goodbyes. “I’ll see you guys soon. Kris, remember your promise, okay?”

He taps twice on the car’s hood and turns towards the parking to retrieve his own car. Adam looks at Kris.

“What was that about?” he asks.

Kris shakes his head and forces a smile. “I can’t tell. Birthday surprise!”

“Oh, I love surprises!” Adam says happily, and joins the traffic cautiously. Kris sighs, because he never thought he’d miss Adam reckless driving. He used to yank the car across lanes with enthusiasm and a complete disregard for personal safety. Nowadays he drives the car so slowly that it actually feels like he’s trying to go backwards. Kris closes his eyes and prays a little. He still can’t believe Adam got his driving license on his first try. What was the examiner thinking?

 

  


 

“And now he texts me all the time: ‘Have you talked to Adam yet?’ ‘Have you talked?’ ‘Have you talked?’ ‘Have you freaking talked?’ I think I wouldn’t mind so much if at least he changed the message sometimes.”

He waits for an answer, but Judith looks more interested in the clams Kris just released into the water. She’s not paying any attention. Starfishes can be _so_ self-absorbed!

“Would it kill you to be a little supportive? If it weren’t for me, you’d still be sharing the pond with the turtles, and we all know how well that worked out, don’t we?”

Judith still ignores him, curling with intent around one of the clams, but Danae comes closer to Kris and taps softly on the wall. He sighs and rests a finger against the glass. She moves her little tube feet comfortingly and he smiles. “You’re the best, Danae.”

Eventually, the lure of food is too much even for her. Kris closes the lid of the tank and absently watches them feed for a while. Danae’s hiding under a bunch of seaweed for her siesta and Judith has begun her after-lunch daily stroll before Kris speaks again.

“I never thought it was going to be so difficult. He’s like a big kid, all enthusiasm and innocence. One would think that it’d make it easier, but the truth is I don’t know how to talk to him seriously.”

Judith moves resolutely to the right. Oh, come on!

“You’re kidding me! ‘Just do it!’ Is that your advice?” Kris asks. “Tell me if there is an easy way to say: ‘Hey, the sex has been fantastic, you know? Athletic and hot, but this mate thing you said we have going on, how long does it last? Are you going to leave me as soon as the baby is born? Or even worse: are you going to leave me and take the baby with you?’”

Judith stops her slow path to the top of the biggest rock. If it wasn’t for the fact that Kris knows it’s completely impossible, he would swear she’s looking reproachfully at him over her shoulder.

It’s an impressive skill, considering that starfishes don’t even have shoulders.

“I’m not saying Adam’s the absent dad type,” Kris says, rolling his eyes. “It’s just that we don’t really know each other that well. Everything’s been so fast! He appears; he says he’s my mate, we bond and BAM! I’m pregnant and my house becomes the stage from the Under the Sea scene of The Little Mermaid.”

He rests his forehead against the tank. As Judith has already reached the top of the rock, it’s like they’re eye to eye. More or less.

“It’s difficult, okay? I don’t know how to explain to him that I’m scared I’m not enough to keep him here. Adam misses the Depths so much… And I can’t go there; I can’t leave everything I know behind just to be with him. That makes me an egoistical asshole. Believe me, I know. I want him to do something I’m not prepared to do for him; I don’t like how it makes me feel, but I can’t change it.”

Judith moves two of her arms in a perfect gesture of exasperation.

“Oh, please! What do you know about matters of the heart?” Kris huffs. “You’re asexual!”

The starfish slowly turns on the rock until she’s giving Kris her (imaginary) back. Shit. Perfect, just perfect. What a wonderful example of sensitivity. Now he’s managed to offend her. Kris closes his eyes and counts up to one hundred.

“Oh my God, Kris! Are you being emo?” Adam shrieks from the door. Surprised, Kris hits his head against the glass.

“Fifty six,” he says stupidly. Ouch. He rubs his forehead and turns around to look at his mate.

Adam comes inside the room and wisely ignores Kris’s last words. “Because if you are, I totally want to play, too. I already have the fringe, see?” He passes his fingers through his hair until the black strands fall over his face. He puts on an anguished expression and leans on the wall, his posture radiating misery. “And this is my face of inner pain and distress, see?” He grimaces in agony. “I practiced it in front of the mirror last week. What do you think?”

Kris tries not to laugh. Only Adam. “I think your emo face looks suspiciously similar to your indigestion face. Only happier.”

Adam looks at him seriously. “Just for this, I’m not mentioning you in my speech to the Academy,” he says, and leaves the room with his chin up in the air.

“They don’t give an Academy Award for a three minute cameo in a movie, Adam!” Kris snorts.

“Yes, tell that to Judi Dench!” Adam yells from the hall. Judith releases a string of bubbles.

“Hey! Are you laughing at me?” Kris asks, outraged. The starfish idly moves one of its legs. Kris doesn’t need a translator to understand the message.

“I don’t know when I lost the control of my house,” he says out loud. But now that he thinks about it, how does Adam know about Judi Dench?

Oh. _Oh!_

Wow. British Merfolk.

That totally explains the Spice Girls, actually.

 

  


 

Their next visit to the merstetrician is as traumatic as the previous ones. Though he doesn’t have to swallow all those vile concoctions he had the last time, now there are some pretty horrific diagrams of how his body is going to change before the actual birth, so Kris considers all visits a tie in distress. And in gruesomeness.

When Doctor Rounds shows them another picture of the birth canal and Adam nearly faints, Kris is really happy he asked Cassidy to come with them. He’s not sure he’s strong enough to carry his mate back to the car.

“I can’t believe you’re not scared. Your B-conduit is going to widen until an egg can pass through it! That’s most than twice its original size!” Adam yells. Even Cass pales a little with the information.

“Well, both my legs are going to merge in a tail and gills are going to appear behind my ears, so compared to that, no, I’m not very worried about the widening of a fucking conduit I don’t even have yet,” Kris answers, rather logically, in his modest opinion.

They both look outraged at him when Kris fails to look properly terrified.

“But it’s your B-conduit, Kris!” Cass says, putting his hands between his legs protectively and shuddering. “It’s, like, the most delicate part of mer-male anatomy!” When Kris only shrugs, he adds, “It runs so close to it, that it may as well be part of your gonopodium!”

“My what?” he asks. Adam whimpers, and Kris sighs. “You do realize that I don’t even know what you’re talking about, right?” he says.

“Mermen,” Doctor Rounds mumbles, and hands Kris some brochures ( _‘Kelp supplements for the pregnant merman’, ‘Hypertension is not an excuse to torment the non-bearing mate’_ , and _‘Flatulence: it exists’_ ) so he can fan Adam with them. Then she gives Cassidy a disapproving look. “I don’t think trying to scare Mr. Allen is a good idea right now, don’t you agree?”

Cass murmurs an apology, and Kris smirks. Somebody’s just lost her complementary lollipop. And he remembers from his previous visits that they’re nori lollipops. They taste awesome.

 

  


 

“Hey,” Kris says from the kitchen door.

Adam looks up and smiles at him. “Hey yourself.” He’s cleaning a big seashell under the kitchen’s faucet. It’s new; Adam probably bought it on his way home from work. The fights between the hermit crabs are taking a turn for the worse, and Adam said they’d better provide bigger shells if they don’t want another epic battle on the pantry floor. The last one was a bloodbath.

“Is that for Lucas?” Kris asks. It must be. Kris can see the crab waiting anxiously besides the kettle. Adam blushes and Kris shakes his head. Of course it’s for Lucas. That crab is spoiled rotten. He’s Adam’s favorite, after all.

“I saw it at the pet shop,” Adam says, drying it with care. “And Lucas always has secondhand shells. I thought that it was time for him to own a brand new one.”

He hands the shell to the crab. He jumps in excitement and runs inside to investigate it. Adam smiles. “You better take care of it, okay? I don’t want to hear another word from you. This is your shell and it’s your responsibility to never lose it. You know that any forgotten shell is fair game in this house. Yo, are you listening to me?” Lucas shows its head under the hood of the shell. They look at each other for a long moment. Adam nods. “Okay, here you go,” he says, picking up the shell and putting it on the floor. Lucas begins the long and arduous job of dragging the big shell towards the living room.

Kris comes closer to Adam. “You know that he’s going to forget about it as soon as ‘Criminal Minds’ begins, don’t you? And then one of the bigger crabs is going to steal the shell and it’ll be Civil Crab War: Take Three.”

“Yeah, his crush on Reid is really inconvenient,” Adam agrees sadly. He looks at Kris again, and Kris is suddenly overwhelmed by how much he loves this guy. He puts a hand on Adam’s neck to lower his head to kiss him.

When he leans back, Adam is smiling, a confused expression in his eyes.

Before he can doubt himself, Kris says: “I want to meet your family.”

Adam drops the dishcloth. “What?”

“I want to go to the Depths with you,” he says, and Adam widens his eyes. “Just for a visit, okay?” Kris says hurriedly in case Adam gets the wrong idea. “I think it’s time for me to meet your mother.”

Adam doesn’t say a thing for a while, mouth half open in disbelief. “Are you sure?” he asks, finally.

“Yes.”

Adam’s smile is so bright Kris won’t ever be able to forget it. “I love you so much,” he says and embraces Kris forcefully. Kris closes his eyes and holds on with all his strength.

 

  


 

It looks like going to the Depths is not exactly like snorkeling. It’s more complicated than Kris thought. His tail’s growth involves a special phase of the moon, something about the correct tide and a lot of pseudo scientific stuff that Kris sincerely doesn’t pay any attention to, because it sounds exactly like Adam’s usual mumbling about Astrology and Kris is used to tuning it out by now. (And he’s scared, okay? He’s pretty scared.)

In the end, the perfect day for Kris to visit the Depths won’t be until twenty days later, when he’s supposed to release his egg, but Adam looks so devastated at the news that Kris calls Cass to ask him what he can do to make his mate happier.

Cass arranges them a sea trip on a yacht. He says the captain is a judicious man, wise to merfolk’s business. Cass assures them that he won’t pry or tell Perez Hilton about them. Maybe Kris won’t be able to go to the Depths with Adam, but at least they can swim together.

Adam is so happy when Kris tells him that they don’t leave the bed for the whole afternoon. Now **that’s** what Kris considers proper care of a Bearing Mate.

 

  


 

Adam gets seasick. Kris thinks this is hilarious.

“Of course Merfolk get seasick! Why wouldn’t we?” Adam asks, half indignant, half miserable. He’s kneeling on the bathroom floor. “I’ve always been **in** the sea, not on it!”

The yacht surges forcefully, and Adam goes green.

Kris smirks from the door. Payback is a bitch.

 

  


 

“I’m not going to wear it, Adam.” Kris crosses his arms over his chest.

“Why not? It’s a great scarf.” He sounds insulted on behalf of the glittering scarf he has in his hands. It is indeed a great scarf; Kris bought it for him a week ago and Adam hasn’t left the house without it since then.

Kris sighs and rubs his forehead. “Because it’s stupid.”

Adam opens his mouth in outrage. “So not wanting you to get sick is stupid now?”

Really, why is Kris’ life so hard? “Wanting me to wear your scarf with my wetsuit **is** pretty stupid, man.”

Adam huffs.

 

  


 

Thank God the captain is a prudent man and is nowhere in sight when Adam goes to the yacht’s deck, because he’s as naked as the first time Kris saw him. A naked Adam is a thing of beauty, a sight Kris is very possessive of, so he checks they’re alone, twice, before he lets Adam go outside.

He’s not really sure what he’s expecting, and that’s a good thing, because Adam just jumps into the water with his eyes bright, and disappears for a full five minutes. The only reason Kris doesn’t freak out is because Adam told him that it would take him a while to turn into a Mer again. It doesn’t mean he’s not biting his nails up to his knuckles, though.

By the time Adam appears, Kris is ready to cry. Adam looks excited, almost giddy with happiness though Kris can’t see anything different from his human form.

“Come here, Kris,” he says, smile so wide that it must be hurting his face. “Don’t be scared!”

Kris is reluctant. He knows how to swim, okay? It’s just that Adam is really graceful and Kris is from Arkansas, where there aren’t a lot of opportunities to surf or scuba dive. He’s not going to look good. So he’s kind of unenthusiastic about swimming offshore, not to mention that Kris now **knows** exactly how many creatures there are bellow them and what kind of shenanigans they usually engage in. Kris doesn’t care what sorts of treaties Merfolk have with sharks. Kris has looked at himself in the mirror. He **does** look like the skinniest seal alive. Everybody knows sharks dig seals.

He’s still on the back deck, wondering if he should sit first or just jump when Adam’s hand circles his ankle.

He doesn’t yell. _He doesn’t._

“Don’t think too much. Just do it,” Adam says so Kris closes his eyes and jumps.

The water is cold. Not unbearably cold, but chilly enough to steal his breath for a minute. Kris doesn’t even know how Adam stands the frigid contact in his bare skin. He’s not complaining, so Kris thinks he shouldn’t worry.

There’s a splash to his left; Kris turns towards the sound just in time to see Adam’s tail disappear under the water. Before he has time to react, Adam’s dripping head surges in front of him.

“Hey there,” he says before kissing Kris, his hand possessive in Kris’ nape.

Kris closes his eyes and rests his hands on Adam’s shoulders. He’s wet and Kris can’t help but notice that the texture of the skin under his hand is wrong. It’s sort of rubbery, and while it’s not exactly rough, it’s no longer smooth either.

Adam breaks the kiss. “What’s the matter?” he asks, and his eyes are the same as always, but he has fewer eyelashes. Kris doesn’t know if it’s the mer-thing, the cold or what, but Adam’s lips are pale. Suddenly Kris needs to see Adam; he needs to catalogue all the differences to reassure himself that the sleek creature in front of him is still his Adam.

“I want to see you,” he says, pushing Adam’s chest a little. Adam smiles, and his teeth are weird too, more pointed, sharp. He moves back easily, and Kris can see that he’s now paler all over, a bluish tinge to all his skin.

Kris loves Adam’s freckles with the same intensity Adam hates them, so the first thing that he notices is that now they follow a pattern that’s not present when Adam is in his human form. When Adam’s human, his body is peppered with tiny brown patches. But in mer form, the freckles are almost cyan, and they trail the contour of Adam’s muscles. Kris rests his fingers over them. Adam shivers.

“It tickles,” he protests. The sudden movement of his tail underwater makes Kris look down, and he has the urgent need to see Adam’s complete form right now.

“Turn around,” Kris asks, and Adam complies. The pattern of blue freckles is more evident in Adam’s back; the colors are also richer, fuller. Adam’s spine is flanked by two long lines of aquamarine and navy freckles that merge at the bottom of his backbone, marking the beginning of the large fin that runs down Adam’s tail.

He looks…amazing. Scary, but amazing, and Kris wants nothing more than to lay him on the deck and run his hands over Adam’s glossy body until he has this new form totally memorized.

He lets his fingers follow the path down Adam’s back, and Adam trembles.

“You better stop,” he warns.

“Why?” Kris knows he’s whining, but he doesn’t care. Adam feels wonderful against the tip of his fingers. Oh! The texture changes completely if Kris caresses him against the grain. It’s mesmerizing.

Adam looks over his shoulder. “Because this is your first time in the water.”

“And?” Kris asks, letting his fingers rest lightly over the line that marks the beginning of the blue scales of Adam’s tail.

Adam shudders. “And I think we should save any interspecies sex for the time when our relationship starts to lose its sparkle, okay?”

Kris pouts.

 

  


 

It’s probably one of the most exciting days of Kris’ whole life. They swim a lot and laugh so hard that Kris thinks he might have swallowed half the ocean. When lunchtime comes, Adam doesn’t change his form; he just rests his new _(amazingly hot, totally distracting)_ body on the deck and lets Kris feed him. It’s a hard task, because Kris can’t keep his hands off Adam. He looks amazing and feels even better under Kris’ fingers. It’s a totally alien but at the same time a weirdly familiar touch. Thrilling.

Watching Adam swim is an amazing spectacle. Kris has always thought that, for a creature without legs until a few months before, Adam is absurdly graceful in human form. But it doesn’t compare to what Kris is watching now. In mer form, Adam is simply perfect. The strong torso, his powerful arms, the muscular tail…even the exotic colors suit this weird and wonderful creature better than the dullest human ones. Adam is made to look as glittery and fierce as he looks now, deep colors bursting all over his body.

Kris feels like the luckiest man alive.

He watches Adam jump over the water in a display of strength. “Show off!” he shouts, when Adam’s head emerges near the deck. Adam’s grin is answer enough. “Stop teasing me. It’s not nice if you’re not going to let me ravish you.”

“Oh, I’m all for the ravishing, believe me,” he says, and he tugs on Kris’s foot until he gets Adam’s intentions and dives into the ocean. Adam pecks him on the lips. “But there are two big reasons we can’t have fun right now.”

Kris doesn’t believe in pecks if actual kisses could be had, so he brings Adam’s head down and kisses him thoroughly. When Kris releases him, Adam blinks slowly.

“You were saying?” Kris asks.

Adam shakes his head. “Yeah, the reasons.” He looks confused and Kris grins. “We can’t debauch each other to our hearts content because the water is too cold for you in your human form.” Adam gives him a regretful smile, and Kris sighs.

Adam is right. Now Kris is actually looking forward to his mer transformation for the first time. He really wants to try Wet Mating. Sounds athletic and hot.

“And more important, we can’t have sex right now because my family has come to meet you,” Adam continues, and Kris’ growing hard on dies a sudden and painful death.

“Your family,” he says. Adam nods, turning him around.

Kris squints his eyes, the light of the sunset making difficult to perceive anything for a moment; but surely enough, now he can distinguish some movement in the distance, a shoal or something coming closer really fast. Kris turns to look at Adam face.

“But how could they…” he tries to ask.

Adam shrugs. “It really was a matter of time. I met with some old friends when you were napping after lunch. I should have known the manta rays wouldn’t keep their mouths shut. They’re worse than the paparazzi, really.”

Kris panics. “We have to get out of here right now,” he says, trying to swim towards the boat. “I’m not even in mer form, I don’t want them to see me like this!”

“Too late,” Adam says, and Kris wonders for a moment if he’s fit enough to dive to the boat and escape. Probably not.

He sighs and turns again, trying to comb his hair with his hands, so at least he won’t look like a demented person when he meets Adam’s family for the first time.

There are a lot of them, their upper torsos floating above the water around twenty feet from Kris and Adam. Kris can see the family resemblance not only in the shape of their faces or the arch of their noses, but also in the rich red color of the hair and the bluish freckles above their cheeks and shoulders.

They all seem excited, happy; their smiles are wide and they have, Kris can’t help but notice, the same incredibly white and vaguely pointy teeth Adam has in mer form. Kris smiles nervously. They beam at him, but nobody says a thing. All the silence and the smiles are starting to freak Kris out.

“You’re trembling,” Adam says, and puts a reassuring arm over Kris’ shoulders.

“This is like ‘Children Of The Corn: Aquatic Version’, okay?” Kris murmurs to Adam, grabbing his arm. “Everybody is kind of ginger-ish and they’re looking at me funny. If somebody as much as shows me a sickle, I’ll piss myself.”

Adam gives him a confused stare, but he pats Kris’ cheek comfortingly. After that he turns towards their public and shouts: “Gam, I present you my mate!”

The smiles grow wider. Is that even possible? Their cheeks are going to burst! Kris gulps. They move their heads in unison and start to hum.

What the fuck? Seriously, _what the fuck?_

Kris suspects that somewhere in Maine Stephen King is laughing his ass off.

“Adam, I’m so out of here it’s not even funny. Take me to the yacht, okay? Right now!” Kris orders with a discreet whisper. At least he hopes it’s discreet.

“No!” Adam’s aghast. “It’s the Salutation Rite, Kris. They want to welcome you to the gam.” Somehow, the hum has slowly turned into some sort of weird chant. “It’s supposed to be reassuring.”

Reassuring. Right. “Believe me, there are no words to explain how **not** reassuring this is,” Kris says. “Mer people humming like that? Not comforting AT ALL!”

Adam moves until he’s behind Kris and enfolds him in his arms. “Just relax, okay?”

Adam is warm behind him, the skin of his arm over Kris’s chest. Adam’s presence surrounds Kris like an actual blanket and that’s familiar, that’s real; Kris can work with that.

Adam leans in and whispers: “Listen. Don’t you think it’s beautiful?”

“I don’t know,” Kris says with honesty. Beautiful is not precisely the term he would choose to describe the music. He can admit it’s impressive, in a terrifying ‘Oh, my God, I’m going to die’ sort of way.

But Adam is asking him to try, so Kris forces himself to _actually_ listen and he slowly begins to appreciate the little details. It’s obvious that the Merfolk have pleasant voices and know how to use them. They’re skilled, because the Rite is a complex tune with an all-encompassing sound, lots and lots of different melody lines that somehow come together in an elegant harmony. It’s a canon perfectly executed and totally overwhelming.

The sunset is almost over. The light is intense, vivid hues of orange and pink painting the sky and reflecting in the water. Kris is weightless. Adam’s body behind him his only anchor. His body heat is Kris’ sole defense against the chilly ocean. He smells nothing but the sea, like all his senses are muted to perceive the music better. The sound wraps him in serenity, an almost tangible presence that reminds him of things half forgotten, an old memory that whispers _happysafewarmprotectedcocoonshelterhomehomeHOME!_ soft and urgent in his ear.

“Oh, God,” he gasps, strangled. “I can belong here, too,” he says, and Adam eyes are happy and proud.

Adam smiles and it’s his brightest smile ever. He says, “Welcome home, then.”

“Home,” Kris repeats with wonder.

The Merfolk finish the song with a long pulse of sound that travels miles and miles of ocean and gleefully informs to all marine life that the Lambert Gam has a new member.

 

  


 

“So it was all poetic and shit,” Matt says. Megan kicks him behind the table. He grins and eats a scone in one big bite.

“Ignore him, Kris. What happened next?” she asks, resting her elbows on the table.

Kris shrugs. “And then everybody waved and went down again, and there was only Adam’s closest family left.”

“So you’ve met Adam’s mother!” Megan shrieks. She doesn’t care about the rest of the people having tea around them, so Kris just shrugs their stares off. Kris doesn’t really like tea, but it’s an excuse to get away from Adam’s hovering. If he has to put up with Megan’s new British kick to accomplish that, then so be it.

“I met her, yes,” Kris says with a grimace.

“Oh, my God!” Megan covers her mouth with her hand. Kris takes advantage of that and steals one of her mini cucumber sandwiches. “What’s she like? Did she hate you? Were you terribly nervous?”

Nervous? Kris wishes he was only nervous. “I was terrified, Megan. As if it wasn’t stressful enough having to meet your future mother in law for the first time, try doing it while her bare breasts float above the water.”

Matt cackles. Megan pales.

“Oh, my,” she finally says, her hand on her chest.

Kris nods sadly. “Oh my, indeed.”

 

  


 

“I need minions,” Adam says, coming into the sitting room. “Where can I find some minions? Is there, like, a shop or something? ‘Minions ‘r’ us’?”

“Huh?” Kris asks from the sofa. He’s trying to write a song, here. The deadline is getting closer, and he can’t ask for another delay. His label told him that he doesn’t get to use the ‘I’m sorry I didn’t finish the soundtrack for Steven Spielberg’s next movie on time because I’m carrying a mer-baby’ more than once.

“I need three minions for tonight. Four would be better, but I don’t want to overdo it. It would be, like, trying too hard, you know? Three big minions should be more than enough.” Adam comes closer and kisses Kris’ forehead absently. He stops on his way to the library and looks back over his shoulder. “Do they come properly attired or should I provide their clothes? I hope they bring their own capes,” he says, biting his lower lip.

“Are you…? What…wait-I don’t- _‘Minions’_?” Kris blinks, trying to clear his head.

Adam looks at him, his tone dry. “And people considers you a gifted lyricist…”

“What do you need three minions for, Adam?” Kris’ brain is suddenly full of horrible images of Adam going all Lord Voldemort on inoffensive people’s asses. He’d make a very credible Evil Overlord, to be honest. Extremely sartorially oriented, but Evil all the same.

“Oh, it’s just that I have to teach a journalist a lesson,” he answers easily.

“Excuse me?” Kris doesn’t shout. He doesn’t. Adams jumps because he has a guilty conscience, obviously. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

“He called you ‘paunchy’!” he says, voice firm and steady. “That’s an offense worth a beating in the Depths.”

“But we’re not in the Depths,” Kris tries to say, but Adam talks over him.

“And you’re not paunchy, you’re pregnant!” He sounds indignant. “Nobody would call a pregnant woman fat, would they? That’s so rude! He needs to learn, Kris, it’s for his own good.”

This kind of shit never happened in Arkansas.

Sometimes Kris misses Arkansas so much it hurts.

Kris takes a deep breath. “He doesn’t know I’m pregnant, Adam. As far as he knows, I’m getting fat.” Kris rises and puts a hand on Adam’s arm, who scowls. “Don’t sweat it, okay? It’s not a big deal.”

For a moment, it looks like Adam is not going to believe Kris, but he relents when Kris nuzzles Adam’s shoulder with his cheek. Adam sighs, his anger deflating.

He hugs Kris and brings him close to his chest. “It’s just that I don’t want anyone to upset you,” he murmurs against Kris’ forehead.

“I know,” Kris says, and suddenly it hits him how much this guy loves him, how fiercely protective he is. He wonders what damn good things he’d done in his previous lives that he deserves an Adam of his own in this lifetime.

Brad is right. Kris should take his head out of his ass and realize how lucky he is. Not everybody has a lover that’s so completely devoted to him. There’s apparently no end to the lengths Adam is ready to go for Kris’ wellbeing, up to causing bodily harm to total strangers, apparently. Who cares if Adam is a little eccentric? What if the guy loves his electric toothbrush so much that he cleans his teeth every three hours? Is it really so bad that Adam lacks the kind of common sense that makes people realize that wearing a long loose pirate shirt with ten inches of ruffled cuffs while cooking is a bad, bad idea? Kris is starting to think that it’s not.

Sanity is clearly overrated. A sane guy doesn’t bring you crazy pets as ‘forgive me’ gifts, or draw smiling little sea worms in the corners of every post it note. A reasonable, normal guy would never spend an hour everyday sitting beside the pond listening to the same old tales the senile turtle tells him. Your common, everyday guy would never consider that grocery shopping is a sexy date, especially if it begins in the vegetable section of the store and ends in the Bakery. An ordinary guy would never, ever cry in a petting zoo.

A regular guy, Kris realizes, is never going to be enough again. ‘You’ve ruined me for anybody else,’ he thinks fondly, kissing Adam’s chin. Oddly enough, he doesn’t find the thought upsetting at all.

Kris looks up at Adam when he sighs. “I’d have looked impressive with three minions,” Adam pouts. “So badass.”

Kris smiles and hugs him. “What about hiring four dancers for your next show? You can totally make it work. They could be, like, your henchmen or something.”

Adam’s face lightens. “Oh, that’s a fantastic idea, Kris!” Adam kisses him and runs to the door. “I need to talk with Cass, I’m going to need black leather capes, and some floggers, too.”

Of course. Floggers. A proper henchman totally needs a flogger. How has Kris not realized that before?

 

  


 

Adam panics when Doctor Rounds phones them and asks them to come to her office, but Kris is sure nothing’s wrong. He’s right. She just wants to inform him better about the changes he’s going to suffer soon. His first transformation into merman is serious business, after all.

She also takes the chance to give him the kelp supplement Kris conveniently forgot to take with him the last time they were in her office. Kris HATES kelp. It tastes like crap and the pills are electric green. Nothing good comes in that shade of green. It’s unnatural.

 _(Adam is properly shocked Kris neglected to take the pills, and earnestly promises Doctor Rounds that he’ll personally supervise all the intakes._

 _Kris is so fucked it’s not even funny.)_

 

  


 

A week later, now that the deadline is practically here, Kris is feeling a little apprehensive about the whole changing thing. He doesn’t want to be the typical neurotic pregnant person, (Adam has that market covered,) but now he can’t help but think about all the things that could go wrong. He’s driving himself mad with worry. He can’t sleep from worrying.

He bites his lip and leans against the window frame. From here, Kris can easily see Adam in the garden. He’s looking over the fence again. The neighbor’s dog, a large Afghan hound called Shirley, fascinates him so Adam spends a lot of time spying on her. “Her hair is exactly the same color as Neil’s,” he said in wonder the first time he saw her. Shirley, escaped from her garden, had come to explore the carp pond and all the intriguing noises that came from there. Adam spent the whole afternoon caressing her thick coat, totally mesmerized. She allowed it with great dignity and a lot of patience. Certainly with more grace than Kris manages whenever Adam goes into one of his frequent grooming modes. “Furries are so weird,” Adam said in amazement when Shirley finally got tired and went back home. He was really angry when Kris refused to explain why he was laughing so hard.

The memory makes him smile for a moment, but the worry comes back soon. Kris is going to change into his mer form for the first time tomorrow. He’s been pretty eager with the idea. That’s why it’s so strange that after the last visit to Doctor Rounds, Kris can’t find enough enthusiasm inside himself to even have a shower. He can’t explain it. Nerves, maybe? He wonders if it’s possible to have pre-partum depression, because it certainly feels like it. He remember how incredibly perfect Adam looked in Mer form, how the hues of his tail fused in a maelstrom of electric blues and vibrant aquamarine. He remembers how excited Adam has been trying to guess the colors of Kris’ future tail, and wondering how both their colors will merge in their little tadpole.

Kris rests his hand over his stomach and tries to feel something, even though by now he’s perfectly aware that his egg won’t move like a normal mammal breed would. His egg isn’t even that big, _(and thank God for that, because he has to expel it in a few hours and he’s not looking forward to it, to be honest) ,_ but right now he needs some reassurance, any kind of signal that let him believe that everything is going to be okay.

“You know that Cass doesn’t speak with his gam anymore,” Adam says from the French window. Kris jumps. He must have been lost in thought, because he never noticed Adam coming inside the house. “But he asked around, and lots of Merfolk told him that even if the first transformation could be a little traumatic, it shouldn’t harm our egg in any way.”

Kris wants to tell him that he already knows that, to leave him alone. Doctor Rounds told them exactly the same. It doesn’t make the weird feeling at the back of his throat go away, though.

“Are you listening to me?” Adam asks, turning Kris around with a hand on his shoulder.

“Yes,” Kris answers.

“But are you really **listening** to what I’m saying?” Adam says. His eyes are kind.

‘Shut up,’ Kris thinks, closing his eyes. ‘Shut up, shut up, shutupshutupshutup-

Adam’s hand travels down Kris’ arm in a slow caress until their fingers are tangled. “I’m going to be there with you all the time, and my mother is going to help us. Everything is going to be okay.”

His voice is reassuring, but Kris needs more. He opens his eyes and says, “I kept saying I didn’t want to be pregnant, Adam. I was so mad at you, so angry all the time…what if our baby noticed? What if he knew that I didn’t wanted him and -”

Adam hugs him tightly. “The doctor told us it doesn’t work like that. Stop torturing yourself. We’ll talk with my mom tomorrow; she’ll explain everything, okay? But please, please,” he begs, resting his forehead against Kris’, “try to sleep a little, you’re freaking me out.”

Kris manages to smile. His sleepiness during most of the first trimester is the stuff of legends, almost a joke by now. Last week Kris even fell asleep while videoconferencing with some European producers. When he woke up, Adam had surrounded the desk with every cushion and pillow of the house in case he fell off. He almost broke his neck trying to detangle himself.

Kris looks up. “Come to bed with me?” he asks.

Adam smiles. “Always.”

Kris is not sure he’s going to be able to sleep, even with Adam’s arms around him, but he guesses that lying there with his eyes closed ought to suffice. It’s the best he can manage right now.

 

  


 

“Really? Changing my form for the first time wasn’t scary enough? Do we have to do it in the middle of the night?” he asks Adam once again.

He laughs. “I told you the moon is really important for us.”

Kris shudders looking out the little window at the unforgiving black ocean outside. “It’s almost midnight and we are in the middle of the ocean. I can’t even see the lights of the coast, Adam. Don’t worry about surviving the transformation. I’m not going to manage to reach the deck without losing my teeth in the dark.”

Adam chuckles, trying to take off Kris’ bathrobe. “The full moon gives us enough light, Kris, and the ocean looks amazing tonight.” He finally gives up when it’s clear Kris is not going to surrender, so Adam rolls his eyes and kisses him. Kris knots his belt resolutely. He’s not going to prance around naked more that it’s already necessary. One nudist in the family is more than enough, thank you very much.

Kris pats his pockets. “Give me my cell. We need it.”

Adam bites his lip and dutifully rummages in Kris bag until he finds the cell. Kris busies himself with it. He hopes he has coverage here. They’re in the middle of nowhere after all.

“What are you doing?” Adam asks.

“I’m calling Brad. I want to make sure he knows I love him and that I forgive him before my life ends.” Adam snorts and Kris adds, “I also want to tell him he can have the Idol Trophy, he’s stupidly fond of that thing. I was going to give it to him, anyway, once my first year was over.”

Adam rolls his eyes and puts Kris’ cell in his pocket. “Let’s go. You have to touch the water exactly at midnight, and I still have to change. I don’t want you to be in the water without me being able to help you.”

“You said it’s not dangerous, why would I need help? Is it risky? Is there going to be a problem?” he asks urgently.

“No, everything is going to be okay,” Adam reassures him. “But your body is going to change drastically and you’ll need help learning how to move underwater with a tail. It’s like learning how to walk again.”

Oh. That makes sense. Kris follows Adam’s naked body out of the cabin until they reach the back deck.

“I’m going under now, “ Adam says. “Remember that it’ll take me a little while, but I’ll be back as soon as possible, okay?”

Kris nods and watches Adam dive gracefully. There’s nobody around, the captain is at the front of the boat, keeping himself occupied with nautical things, Kris hopes. There’s only the light of the big round moon over the water and the sound of the waves against the sides of the boat. It’s like Kris is alone in this black cotton bubble, his thoughts his only company. He wishes he hadn’t listened to Adam when he asked Kris not to pressure Cassidy into accompanying them. Cass was **this** close to yielding and Kris needs all the help he can get.

He looks down. The water is totally black. He can’t see a thing. Kris doesn’t want to know what kinds of creatures are down there. He trusts Adam, he’s not going to let anything happen to Kris, but Kris really, really wishes they could have this first transformation thing in broad daylight. At least that way he would look at the eyes of the leviathan when it comes to eat him. Kris hopes all the kelp pills he’s been taking gives the fucking beast the nastiest case of heartburn ever.

“Kris?” he hears. It’s a female voice.

He turns and there she is, Adam’s mother. “Hi, Leila.”

“Hi, Kris.” She smiles. “How are you?”

“Nervous,” he answers sincerely.

Leila chuckles, and the corner of her eyes wrinkle like Adam’s. “That’s reasonable. I hope your doctor explained you what’s going to happen.”

Kris gulps. “Yes, she’s fantastic. She made me a presentation, with graphs and pictures, the whole shebang.” Adam had loved the PowerPoint, though some parts had been a little too graphic for him. Though after the presentation, Kris totally understood Adam’s explosive reaction to the ball-launching machine from the tennis club.

“Don’t worry. Everything-”

“Mom!” Adam shouts, and Kris lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Leila embraces her son tightly.

“Hey, baby,” she says, and Adam smiles. “I was talking with your mate. Are you sure you still want to take the egg ashore? It’d be so much easier if you both stayed here. We all could help.”

Kris tenses, but Adam’s answer is resolute. “Kris is not used to being underwater, mom. We have good friends on the Surface. They’ll help us.” He waits until Leila nods to add, “and you can always come and visit us.”

“You know I’m really busy, Adam. Being head of a gam is not a piece of Kombu Cake.”

Adam’s mock outrage is really good. “Too busy to visit you first grandtadpole? Shame on you, Leila Lambert, shame on you.”

Kris’ cell beeps in his pocket, the alarm signaling a minute to midnight. Kris gulps and locks eyes with Adam.

“It’s time,” he says unnecessarily. Adam nods.

Leila smiles comfortingly. “Now, Kris, all you have to do is be ready to jump into the water exactly at midnight. I’ll tell you when, don’t worry. You’ll notice a little tingle down your spine, and you’ll probably feel the need to fight against the weight that’ll tug you down. Don’t do it,” she admonishes. “Just try to relax and after a few seconds your gills will appear. You’re not going to drown. Don’t be scared, the gills will help you breathe.”

Kris touches absently the space under his left ear, trying to imagine how the gills will feel. He wonders if they’ll be as sensitive as Adam’s, who trembles uncontrollably every time Kris touches him there.

“Once you’re breathing, your legs will begin to merge. I’m not going to lie,” she says gravelly. “It’s going to hurt, but it won’t harm the egg at all. Try to bear the pain; in no time at all, you’ll have your tail and the worst will be over.”

Kris breathes deeply and nods. Adam’s smile is a little watery, but comforting all the same. He gestures towards Kris’ body and Kris blushes while taking his robe off. He tries to act nonchalant. What’s a little nudity between in-laws? Just when the cloth touches the wood of the deck, Kris hears Leila’s voice.

“Now!”

Kris closes his eyes and jumps.

 

  


 

Darkness. Coldness. He was expecting that. But…isn’t it supposed to be silent underwater?

Kris can hear the beating of his heart so loudly that he’s afraid every shark in a ten-mile radius will come to investigate.

He’s sinking down very quickly, and the urge to move his legs is overwhelming. He doesn’t do it, more because they weigh tons than because of Leila’s words. He doesn’t feel the tingle in his spine she warned him about. Or maybe it’s just that he can’t feel it because his throat is closing? He’s trying to look around, to look up, because he needs Adam with him. He can’t breathe, he’s going to drown; Kris needs to go up right now. Then the skin of his neck opens suddenly, with a sharp throb, and his lungs are full of water.

It’s weird. He has never consciously tasted air. He knows that places have different smells, but he never savored air the way he’s savoring water right now. It fills him; he opens his mouth letting the bubbles out, and he watches them float away idly. They’re pretty; they sparkle against the obscure velvet that surrounds him. It’s then that he notices the darkness that was so frightening before is now comforting and not so dark after all. He can see the bottom of the boat against the light of the moon up there, smaller and smaller each second he sinks. He can also see two bodies swimming down towards him; he wants to call for Adam and tell him about his gills, about the way his eyes are changing, but then the pain starts and he can only shout.

His bones are breaking, his flesh tearing itself apart. The pain starts at his spine, his pelvis rotating, and it’s like his knees are trying to fuse, bare bones grinding against one another. The skin at his hips is starting to itch unbearably, and he would scratch it if his hands weren’t busy trying to propel his body upward. This was a terrible idea, a horrible, horrible idea.

When he tries to move his lower legs to help him up, he notices he can’t do it. They are glued, and it looks like there’s some kind of fabric or feathers down to his toes. The feeling is weird. He tries again, the muscles of his shoulders and arms straining, and the sudden impulse upwards makes him wobble.

A hand catches his, and Adam is there, worried blue eyes locked on Kris’. Kris is dizzy; he feels like fainting, he can’t swim anymore. Before closing his eyes in defeat, he tries to open his mouth, though he’s afraid that only shouts of pain will come out. He doesn’t want to scare Adam, so he bites his lips instead.

As suddenly as it begins, the pain is over. Adam embraces him and Kris closes his eyes, resting his head against Adam’s chest.

 

  


 

“I’m red.” Kris says smugly.

Well, he doesn’t say it, exactly. He kind of thinks it aloud, because talking with your throat full of water is all sorts of complex. Mertalking is not as easy as he thought it’d be. It took Kris almost six tries before he managed to make himself understood, and he suspects he still sounds kind of drunk. But it doesn’t matter, because he’s red.

“I’m red,” he repeats, moving his tail up and down.

He honestly wasn’t expecting the vivid colors. The fin at the end of his tail is like lace, the effect prettier than a peacock tail. The warm colors blend beautifully into one another. It’s gorgeous, and Kris doesn’t care if it makes him sound conceited, because his tail is red! And amazing!

“Yes, Kris, you’re red,” Adam says tiredly.

Kris smirks. “Red is my favorite color, Adam. I LOVE red, and I think that our kid is going to be the most amazing red-haired red-tailed mer ever.”

“There’s such thing as too much redundancy, Kris, you know?” Adam’s been pissed off since he first noticed Kris’ color. Kris always tries to be really supportive about Adam’s insecurities, his complexes and all the issues he has with the red hair thing and stuff like that, but right now Kris doesn’t even care because…hello? Kris has a RED TAIL!

His life is fucking awesome.

 

  


 

While talking underwater is complicated, swimming is surprisingly easy. Adam helps Kris with the basics, and soon Kris is wandering among the reefs at a good pace. He’s not exactly graceful, and he’s not going to win any Olympic medals in speed either, but he manages just fine. Leila says that he’s doing pretty good considering it’s his first time.

They’re at the outskirts of the gam’s domain at the moment so Kris can have some isolation for his transformation, and all the wonderful things to explore mesmerize him. He can’t wait to properly visit The Depths; Adam says it’s a truly amazing place, but here and now there’s more than enough stuff to keep him entertained for a while.

He’s grateful of the privacy when he starts to feel an odd pressure in his lower…well, what used to be his lower abdomen and now is a plane covered by crimson scales.

“I’m feeling weird,” he says.

“Weird how?” Adam asks immediately.

“I don’t know. My belly is squiggling and I feel like I have to, you know, and I don’t know how to,” he blushes.

Adam looks at him. “Like you have to what?” he asks.

Kris blushes harder. “You **know** ,” he says meaningfully, looking at Leila from the corner of his eye.

“No, I **don’t**.” Adam answers back, looking confused.

Leila smirks. “I think it’s time to lay the egg, dear,” she says in a gentle tone.

Adam pales; his blue freckles stand out against his almost translucent skin. “No! It’s too soon, mom!”

Kris’ insides twist unpleasantly. He has the urge to push, but doesn’t dare to. He doesn’t really know how his physiology changed, mostly because he didn’t want to look down there to check out his…intimate areas in front of his mother in law. He would like to maintain a semblance of dignity, at least.

He thought that exploring his merman parts in public would totally give her the wrong impression.

Adam bickers with his mother as Kris’ urge to push grows and grows. There’s a weird heaviness in his stomach and his kidneys hurt. His eyes widen when a spasm hits him forcefully.

“Adam,” he groans. His bladder burns; it burns so much he doubles over himself gasping.

Leila is by his side in a moment. “Breathe,” she commands.

Kris gasps. “There’s something throbbing inside me,” he says.

Leila grimaces. “The egg is moving. We have to lay you down.” She takes his right arm and Adam goes to the other side. Together, they move him until he’s resting against a rock.

“Wouldn’t sand be more comfortable?” Kris asks. The reef is scratchy in places, and his caudal fin is so pretty! He doesn’t want to tear it.

Oh, God. He has turned into a seven-year-old girl.

Leila shakes her head. “You’re going to thrash your tail a lot in a moment. Believe me, you don’t want to deal with a sandy swirl besides the laying of the egg. You’ll be picking sand out of your gills and teeth for weeks afterward.”

Shit. Here comes the burn again, and it’s even worse this time. Leila was right. His tail is moving of its own accord. The only reason he’s still at the same place is because Adam’s behind him, keeping him still against his body. Kris closes his eyes in embarrassment when an unspecified portion of his upper tail breaks open and releases some kind of cloudy squirt into the water. Oh, that’s so gross. He can’t express how happy he is that Leila has front row for this. It’s marvelous, honestly.

Kris pants when a burning pain hits him. He doesn’t know what the egg is doing down there, but it feels like it’s rearranging all his insides.

“It’s coming already,” Leila says, surprised. She looks up at him. “I can’t believe how well you dilate.”

Kris wonders about the proper answer to that. ‘Thank you?’ He eventually nods, smiling vaguely, and that seems to be enough for Leila, who caresses the scales on his side comfortingly. He gasps when another ripple hits him. It last a long tome, the waves of pain so intense and close that he can barely pant between them. Finally, with a horrifying throb that almost makes him faint, a glob of a squishy substance comes out using the same path the gray liquid used before. If Kris thought that the transformation into mer was painful, now he has the reevaluate his thinking. He’s so sore that breathing hurts. He pants, and Adam kisses his temple.

“You did so well, Kris,” he says, and Kris closes his eyes.

He opens them again when Adam gasps. Leila caught the…thing, and she brings it back to them.

“Here you are,” she coos, and Kris is amazed to see that her eyes are red. Is she crying? How the hell do Merfolk cry underwater? Do they segregate ambergris or what? “It’s a gorgeous egg,” she says, resting the egg in Kris’s hands.

Kris looks down doubtfully. It’s not a pretty thing. The egg is translucent and its consistency is jellylike, but then Kris notices there’s something dark swimming inside, and his heart starts to beat double time. His baby is actually there, alive and healthy. Kris’ smile is so wide he thinks he’s going to burst.

“It’s our baby, Kris,” Adam says. He rests his chin in Kris’ shoulder and caresses the egg with a fingertip. “Hello, little one. We’re your parents,” he says.

“We’re your family,” Kris adds, watching the tadpole wriggle inside the egg.

 

  


 

“Isn’t he gorgeous?” Adam says proudly.

Cass raises an eyebrow. “Oh, totally,” he says with a straight face. If Kris didn’t know him so well, he would never know Cassidy’s lying.

“I know,” Adam says, wrapping the egg again. “The handsomest egg in the whole world.”

Kris snorts. The egg is even more hideous on the surface than it was underwater, but Adam refuses to acknowledge that. Kris watches him as Adam takes the egg back to the tank. The eel get antsy if the egg is out for more than five minutes at time. Adam gets antsy, too.

“Thanks for lying,” he tells Cass when Adam is out of hearing range. They walk towards the garden.

“You’re welcome,” Cass says. “It’s not that horrific, though. By your description I was prepared to meet the lovechild of a Gremlin pod and a Pokémon.”

Kris smirks. “I know it’s not gruesome. But don’t you think it’s kind of plain?” he asks. Underwater, the egg is translucent, letting them see the vague outline of the baby growing inside. If Kris has to be impartial, he could say that the egg is interesting. But out of water? The egg turns a grey color, its shell starts to solidify and dark spots appear on its surface. Adam freaks out when he can’t see the tadpole, so he tries to never take the egg out of water for a long time. That’s why they don’t get to see the solidified stage very often.

“You think it’s plain? It’s an egg, Kris.” Cassidy’s tone is sensible.

Kris frowns. “Yeah. I guess I was expecting more theatricality, you know? It’s Adam’s egg after all.”

Cass looks at him for a moment, contemplating. Then he says, “Yeah, I know what you mean. With him, Easter eggs were always a possibility.”

 

  


 

“-totally ballistic, I swear. The yelling, you wouldn’t believe it. It was like Adam’s lizard brain went all overload and-”

“Wait,” Brad interrupts. “Do mermen have lizard brain? Wouldn’t it be more, like, I don’t know, ‘sea snake’ brain or something like that?”

Kris looks at him in silence for a moment. “Really, Brad? Really? That’s what you get of the story? I tell you that Adam almost tore the postman a new one just for ringing the bell during what’s supposed to be nap time for our egg and you want to discuss semantics with me?”

Brad blushes. Kris shakes his head. What’s wrong with his friends, honestly?

 

  


 

It’s freaky how fast the egg grows. When they brought it home it was roughly the size of a ping-pong ball. Next day, it was like a tennis ball. Not a week later, it’s almost like a melon.

Kris is scared it’s going to start singing “Feed me, Seymour” at any moment.

 

  


 

“So…you say your baby is growing inside this pod-thing,” Matt says, poking the glass with a finger. Margot jumps from a little cave in the rock under the egg. She shows him her teeth and Matt jumps back, his hand to his chest. Eels are scary when they’re in full protective mode.

“It’s an egg, Matt, but yes, my baby is growing inside it.” Kris answers. Margot throws him a look full of reproach before she turns back into the cave. Kris knows that look. It says: ‘You’re not taking the protection of the egg very seriously. I’m going to have some words with Adam as soon he’s back from the bathroom’. Oh, joy.

“How does it work?” Megan asks. Kris frowns. Her head is tilted to the side and she doesn’t take her eyes off the egg. “I mean, you lay the egg, you put it in a reef and then what? You wait around for two weeks until it hatches?”

“Mostly,” Kris agrees.

Megan turns her head to look at him in the eye. “ And how big it was when you laid it?”

“Like this,” Kris answers, signaling with his hand. Megan looks unimpressed.

Matt looks a little green.

“What?” Kris asks, twitching under her gaze.

She raises and eyebrow. “Dude, just look at the size of the baby’s head when they finally come out of the egg, and compare it with the size of the egg when you laid it. **Then,** see if you still have the nerve to commiserate to any woman about traumatic deliveries.”

She turns on her heels and leaves the room. Matt puts a comforting hand on Kris’ shoulder.

“You never win with women, Kris. You never win, “ he repeats.

They both sigh.

 

  


 

Doctor Rounds says the egg is perfect and it’ll hatch soon, but meanwhile, Adam has to rest, because he’s going to emaciate himself if he keeps on hovering around the egg.

“The eel are perfectly qualified for protecting your egg, Adam. They’ve been helping Merfolk for millennia. You can rest assured that they’ll take care of everything at night, and if it were necessary, the crabs or the lobsters would warn you immediately,” she says.

“Are you suggesting that I leave him alone a **whole** night?” Adam shrieks affronted, snuggling the egg to his chest and looking at her like she’s out of her mind. Kris suppresses a snort. The egg is so large now that it’s like Adam’s hugging a massive watermelon.

She purses her lips and looks up at the ceiling, clearly asking for help, patience or divine intervention. Who knows? When she finally locks her eyes with Kris’, he shrugs in defeat. Adam’s hovering is even worse now that the egg is outside, but Kris is not going to protest, mostly because he’s no longer the object of all the hysteria.

Doctor Rounds looks at Adam sternly, but Adam is cooing at the egg and doesn’t notice. She seems to be pretty tired and Kris feels a little guilty they made her come to their house after her visiting hours, but Adam refuses to leave the house anymore, and he’s been sleeping at the sofa for ten days now. Drastic measures are needed, and Kris thinks that she’s the best for the job.

When she rubs her forehead and sighs, Kris gets up from the sofa.

“Would you like some cake?” he asks, and she shakes her head no, smiling tiredly. “Coffee? Some juice? Hope?”

She snorts. “Only if the hope comes with a shot of tequila,” she says frowning at Adam. “Or a bazooka.”

Adam squeals, “No violence in front of my baby!” and tries to cover the whole egg with his body.

Kris bursts out laughing.

 

  


 

It’s pure luck that Kris is the one in the room when the egg hatches. Adam is eating a sandwich, and Kris is trying to clean the aquarium filter again. Those damn krill have no respect whatsoever for delicate pieces of machinery. Kris can never understand why they think the filter is the perfect place to hide.

Adam says they just like the sound and the bubbles. Krill are weird like that.

He’s busy trying to put the filter back inside without disturbing Peter the porcupine pufferfish, (he’s kind of touchy), when he notices the eel twisting nervously. Kris dries his hands on his jeans and turns around the big tank so he can properly see what’s happening.

The egg is twitching. Like, a lot.

Kris gulps. While he’s watching it, stunned, the egg moves even more violently. Now it’s properly thrashing, more than merely twitching. One of the eel, Kris thinks it’s Marion, is helping it use the momentum to crash against the rocks at the bottom of the tank.

It’s hatching time and Kris’ knees are trembling.

He tries to open his mouth and call Adam, but his throat is closed and he only manages a raspy sound.

The egg tips to one side and finally falls to the stones of the bottom of the tank. All the eel freeze when a dark, muddy liquid starts oozing from the long rip on the shell.

The egg twitches violently again, and before he knows it, Kris has his hands inside the tank. He’s tearing both sides of the rip apart and shouting to Adam to “Come here right now, our baby is here!”

Then he’s looking at the little girl curled in fetal position and Kris has to lean against the tank because he’s not sure his legs are going to be able to hold his dead weight.

Don’t ask Kris how he knows she’s a girl when she’s still in her Mer form. He just knows it.

Her tail uncurls. She moves her tiny, tiny hands. The eel slither under her to boost her tiny body to the surface. It’s not necessary. Kris swoops up his daughter in his arms, taking her out of the water and not caring she’s dripping. Who cares if they’re ruining the hardwood floor? She’s here. She’s here and she’s beautiful, perfect. Kris can’ believe how tiny and cute she is, with barely any hair and her little scrunched nose and her-

“Oh my God, she’s here!” Adam shouts from the door, and runs so fast to their side that he slides with the water at Kris’ feet and almost dislodges the tank with his hips. Ouch. That’s going to bruise. “Let me see her, is she okay? Is she breathing?”

Kris pales. He didn’t check! He looks at her frightened, but his baby chooses that moment to let out a big wail and Kris closes his eyes in relief.

“Yes,” Adam coos, caressing her tiny wrinkled face. She’s really pissed off, it seems. “That’s my girl, let it out, let it out.” She cries harder and then hiccups. Kris’ heart jumps in his chest.

He can’t believe she’s finally here. After all this time, after the hellish pregnancy, after Adam’s agoraphobic phase, she’s here. His daughter, the beginning of his family. It’s been so wortwhile that he can’t even process it. Now he doesn’t care about the morning sickness, the swollen ankles, or his sore back. He’s going to ask Adam to impregnate him again as soon as possible. Like, right now.

“She’s so little. Let me hold her,” Adam begs, holding his arms out towards him. Kris takes an involuntary step back, holding the baby close to his chest.

Wow.

That’s…unexpected.

Adam looks at him in disbelief, and Kris can feel his own eyes widening in surprise. Adam is not going to hurt the baby, come on! He’s her father too. He tries to outstretch his arms, but he just…can’t.

“Kris?” Adam asks. Kris opens his mouth to justify himself, but he closes it before he can say a thing.

What can he say? ‘I’m sorry, but she’s mine, she’s part of me and I can’t let her go’? He knows it’s stupid, he really does, but he can’t seem to be able to let her go. Adam looks devastated, and Kris makes the last effort. His brain commands his hands to let Adam take her, but they’re not responding. He bites his lip.

Oh, oh.

Looks like they have a problem.

 

  


 

“No, really,” Doctor Rounds says. “You have to look for another doctor, okay? I can’t deal with all this tension.”

“But Doctor,” Adam tries to say. Kris looks at him with a hawk eye, ready to take his baby back if Adam moves so much as an inch from the sofa. He doesn’t care what they’re talking about. Kris just wants his baby back in his arms, where she belongs. He shoots Adam an intense look. ‘Give me the baby,’ he thinks in his most commanding voice. ‘You really want to give me the baby back. Seriously, Adam, why are you hogging the baby? Babybabybaby. Dude, give me my baby!’

Adam looks at him and rolls his eyes.

“You’re the weirdest couple I’ve ever had the misfortune of treating. Your issues have issues, okay?” Doctor Round closes her eyes and rubs her forehead. “Wow. I never thought I’d miss the Wentz-Stumps,” she murmurs. “You never know what you have until it’s gone.”

Adam looks angrily at Kris, like he’s the reason they’re **this** close to losing their doctor. Whatever. Kris is allowed to freak out too, isn’t he? After all, Adam’s been hovering the whole pregnancy. Now it’s Kris’ turn.

“Look, I’m only a merstetician,” she says finally, in a calmer tone of voice. “You need to look for a proper pediatrician for her. I can recommend you one if you need me to.”

Adam nods and smiles tightly at her when she rises from the sofa. They escort her to the front door. Her hand on the knob, she turns back to them and says, “But believe me, it would help if you talked with a shrink. You really need professional help.”

Before Kris can even express his indignation, Adam smiles at her. “Don’t worry, we will,” he assures her. She smiles back and closes the door behind her.

How dares she? “Can you believe the nerve of that woman?” Kris asks.

Adam shrugs. “She’s right, though.”

“What?”

Adam looks at him earnestly. “We do need help.” Kris stutters, offended. “What I don’t understand is why we need shrunken help. Is it because our baby is little? Would we have to change the help while she grows? Because she’s so little that I think that the hermit crabs will suffice for now.”

Kris sighs.

 

  


 

“I’m a perfectly adjusted father now. I’m a model of maturity and self restraint.” Kris says. And then, “Shut up, Cass, I totally am.”

“You bought her a plaid dress, Kris.”

“Whatever,” Kris answers while he picks her up. Every girl should have a plaid dress with lots of ruffles. The more ruffles, the better.

She gurgles happily. He wonders if they make converse sneakers for babies. Her legs are going to sprout soon, according to Adam’s mother. She’s going to need shoes.

“And you shouldn’t talk. You made her a leather onesie,” Kris says.

Cass flushes. “Adam asked me to!” He protests.

Yeah. Sure.

 

  


 

“Hi, weird girl with a fish tail!” Brad says wriggling his fingers. The baby ignores him. “I’m your fabulous uncle Brad!” Kris smiles when she burps.

Adam glares at him. “Don’t call her that,” he says sternly. “Her name is Suzette.”

“Suzette? Suzette!” Brad asks in disbelief, jumping back. Sometimes Kris wonders if he has radar for drama queens or what. His life is full of them.

Brad stammers over his words, turning towards Kris. He looks positively outraged. “You! What were you thinking? My poor goddaughter is going to be forever associated with that dreadful dessert!”

Kris shrugs in defeat. “Consider yourself lucky. Adam’s been calling her Sorbet for the last week. And it was Melba before that.”

Brad sits with an empty expression.

“You have no taste whatsoever,” Brad says to Kris, “and no personality, either.”

“But I have a baby,” Kris says with a stupid smile, “and she’s the most gorgeous baby in the whole world.”

Adam beams at him.

 

  


 

Kris looks from the door. Adam is in the kitchen, preparing some quinoa for dinner and talking to Suzie. She’s in her stroller, gurgling happily while she listens to her father’s diatribe.

“And then they brought the most disgusting creature ever for the session,” Adams says. “It was hideous. I mean, it was horrible enough when they made me take that picture with the cockatiels, but at least they had a reasonable size. This time they brought this giant bird, it was huge, Suzie, _huge_. A massive bird full of feathers.” He shudders, and Lucas, who is resting on the counter, shakes his head in commiseration.

Kris grins. Adam is afraid of birds. ‘I don’t trust them,’ he told Kris once. “They have tiny hollow bones and their bodies are covered by feathers. And they fly, basically, and that’s absolutely against nature.’

“They said it was an ostrich, whatever that means. It was a giant bird, with cruel eyes and muscular thighs and it totally wanted to eat me, I saw it clearly in the way he looked at my earrings.”

“That’s because they were shiny,” Kris says. Suzie has Kris’ temper, thank God, and she barely reacts; but Adam jumps back when Kris speaks. “Birds like shiny things.”

“So do I,” protests Adam. “And I don’t go around poking people with my beak!”

“You don’t have a beak,” Kris answers reasonably. He kisses Adam and squats down to rub his nose against Suzie’s. She smells like almond milk and seaweed. Kris inhales happily.

“That’s entirely beside the point, Kristopher! I told them I’m not willing to risk my life dealing with wild animals now that I have a family. I have to be responsible.” Adam says, turning his attention towards the cauldron. “They weren’t happy, but they finally relented and we went back to the other concept for the album cover.”

“Yeah?” Kris asks absently. He’s sure Suzie is too small to play peek-a-boo but it doesn’t mean he can’t try. She smiles as Kris’ face appears behind his hands. His baby is clearly the brightest baby ever. He doesn’t care what Brad says. That’s obviously a smile, not gas.

“Yes. It was much more sensible, anyway. The album is called “Ablaze”. What does it has to be with ostriches and peacocks? I liked the flames idea better.”

“Sure,” Kris says absently. Then he stops. “Wait, flames?”

“Didn’t I tell you?” Adam says. He turns around after he puts the salad on the kitchen table. He’s beaming. “They’re going to set my head on fire for the cover!”

 

  


 

“One of these days,” Kris says coming inside the sitting room, “the turtles are going to declare the pond a republic, and the carps are going to be thoroughly fucked, just so you know.”

He closes the French door and gets closer to the sofa. “You should talk with Jeremiah. He keeps thinking the neighbor’s gnome is trying to seduce him, and I’m getting tired of rescuing it from the bottom of the pond. Seriously, it’s a matter of-”

Adam sleeps, Suzie resting on his stomach, one of his freckled arms around her with care. They are both so incredibly beautiful that Kris’ heart is going to explode.

And they’re **his** : his mate, his kid. His family. He can barely believe it.

Kris sits down on the floor, just to look at them in silence. Lawrence fetches him the remote, but Kris shakes his head. He doesn’t want to watch TV, not if he can watch his family sleep instead. He loses track of time, watching Suzie twitch her tail, tickling Adam; watching Adam frown in his sleep, never loosening his grip on her, not even for a moment.

His family. A dream he didn’t even knew he had.

If somebody would’ve told him what his life would be like just a year ago, Kris would‘ve laughed his ass off. But here he is, in a committed relationship with a very special and crazy guy, a lovely daughter and a house full of friends and marine creatures in various tanks. It shouldn’t work, but it does, and Kris is the happiest he’s ever been.

That’s his life. And damn if it isn’t getting better every day.

Fin.


End file.
